hip hop old abbeyrs road rnb

who or what waits down old Abbey’s road — from here, to seek the err of Sydney’s beautiful song? Why do the roses and thistles sense I’ve been gone too long? I feel your essence before you cry — like mourning, before the tears roll down the eyes Sense with me — as the neck guides the collar, as the mind guides the eyes to see, as our words guide the only light, we carry through defeat. Trust in me — I know the sights of these troubled times. And in the closing minutes of embers’ end, I say a plea for poet’s justice: give the smoke a reason, and the reason its notice. who or what waits down old Abbey’s road — from here, to seek the err of Sydney’s beautiful song? Why do the roses and thistles sense I’ve been gone too long? I feel your essence before you cry — like mourning, before the tears roll down the eyes