I'm havin' dreams of seeing Jesus on the Wilson stop
Crying' his eyes out, soaking the there t-shirt that he rocks
As the tears drop and mix with the blood from his palms
I compared his crown to yours and I began to scream psalms like
Soups open soul, soups open soul the non-stop
Unfold so he can roll and get his cross back from the pawn shop
Shocked no one can see him through his money green fog
And just then he disappeared from two kids with seeing eye dogs
They asked me who he was?
Well how should I know...
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