Things Are What You Make Of Them - Bishop Allen

I was spending my days with my demons, yeah

They had taken up inside of my heart

They were trying to keep me entertained

They were tearing me apart

Well my memory, she was packing, yeah

And I knew that she would never come back

She handed me a letter and

Then she vanished in the black

And the letter said:

Things are what you make of them

Things are what you make of them, baby

And you know what I mean

Yeah, you know what I mean

Well I met up with my common sense

And I knew her by the rose in her hair

She said: Son, if you don’t make a noise

God will never know you’re there

So I purchased me a ticket, yeah

For a meeting with Jesus Christ

He shook my hand and offered me

Just this thimble of advice

He was telling me:

Things are what you make of them.

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