This too shall pass This too shall pass This too shall pass, ooh Accent... and Kinetics... One love The heart of this artist, harvests a harshness from Horrible hardships so hardily harness that are hardly harmless, he harps in this harvest Disatisfied, with the lack of pride As he travels by harlem, the bronx anarcas On the MTA, with an empty cage He wants to set ablaze, 'cause everyday the stress parades from every waste His reddened face, reflects the pain of what his pen will say Then a master ray of senseless rage just can't send him restraint Things get in his way, the boy spouts some steam Some get out and leave Others surround his feet Mumbuling I'll reheave, reluctantly smile, 'cause things, just come from the childish dreams, and smotherd profounder things Such as the songs they sing but, window becomes a lense Magnifiable, pass her bys, until it covers them The laugh was crys, and clap was sighs, they both reformed his gin Imagine