Verse 1 (Freddy):
Some call it wishful thinking, I prefer to cope/
With the notion it’s forever changing like an ocean coast/
Summersault over assaults, in the winter it’s a coat/
In an argument, a toast to promote who you just opposed/
This is hope springing up, sucker punch to the gut/
Wake up call to your wants to shut up and go self-destruct/
It's a pep in your strut, breakfast in your gut/
Well fed, feeling cut, clean, well-kept, yet you’re struck still/
Yeah you’re flawed, filled with more acting than Vaudeville/
But you crawl skilled, filled with a tall grill/
Big grin, sanguine, yeah you’re dancing/
No answers other than God's reenacting the passion/
And the casket’s your past skin, burying the past You/
And past sin, in passing, you’re asking/
How can this happen, how long is this lasting?/
The joy of God surpasses earthly understanding.

Chorus:
And I can feel it in my gut, things are looking up
Yeah the seasons turned and now...
It feels like everything'll turn around
Yeah everything'll turn around
And I can't even sum it up, that feeling that you're stuck
Then freedom comes and bails you out
It feels like everything'll turn around
Yeah everything'll turn around

Verse 2 (Tony):
I’m trying to psych up myself get me to rise up/
Cause I’ve been fighting myself like it’s Fight Club/
I’m un-done, by the rigorous trials of/
Life but, light jumps into the horizon/
The bright sun it’s a symbol that Life’s come/
With the might of a prime Tyson, the fight’s won/
Ain’t nothing like love, poured by Life’s blood/
And it’s my lifeblood and the well never dries up/
And these are my suds, and they clean a man right up/
Cause I’m not upright, I’ve had it backwards since I uh…/
Begun, just slip up reruns, I’d get up and rerun/
Then slip up, wise up!/
Because I act like my time’s up, watchin’ the sky/
Man you’re infinite size duh!/
You can’t be in a time crunch/
Get your head out the clouds, make your mind up.

Chorus

Verse 3 (Freddy):
It's like the older I’m getting, I’m letting headaches get set in/
Collecting skeletons in my closet intending to denezin/
Even dentists or vets couldn’t treat with excellent medicine/
Medical attention wasn’t what I needed, irrelevant/
My, method to cope, not coke, dope, or to smoke/
But I might as well have choked on a toke groping my throat/
The lesson to note, no scolding instead He wrote me a note/
In bold on my heart’s folds and behold it said “Hope”/
So “no bro” says I to the old, can't hold me afloat/
Not sold, no nope I eloped and belong to the throne/
My cope, my coat, my boat, my God is my vote/
Steady globe holder, I’m bolstered in blessing, in God I repose/
With God in control, now what a site to behold/
A light to my road, beacon to what life can unfold/
This is surrender to a poetry pro/
Who can take a life of broken prose and make it sing hope.

Chorus