I am the stone that the builder refused I am the visual The inspiratoin that made the lady sing the blues I am the spark that makes your ideas bright the same Spark that lights the dark so you can know the left From your right I am the balloon in your box the Bullet in your gun the inner glow that lets you know To call your brother son, The story that just began Promise of whats to come and imma remain a soilder Till the war is done (Chop Chop Judo Flip)