beat by antonym.
Story behind the song
To be featured on an upcoming compilation titled "Tree". Upon completion I will post a link to the album, if and when there is any.
Lyrics
Floats and forms, tribal palms caress
before the flags are raised, in call protest
Scars on my hands run deep under tracks
no undertones can display remorse.
And to question one with both genders sporting
muslim beards, my type the write off and flew....
Dire times, tunnel glass seeps internal
prays in light: mutters why can't I fly?!?!
In our names: view the bottom of a wasted lifespan
genes passed down to the youth
cratediggers dont know, lives fall in tune.
I inherit the best of them!
standing on foreign turf, wrists allign so they scatter, himself undone rooted claims ever rusts outside brought in, overcast can lend pure settles like a stressed mindset.
Fed all that hits, deep informed dances circling stale paper.
Lord Byron speaks under false ink, drifting through the sounds of drums recalls why it is we sleep. Body lacks hint of a theme, bubblings a ripe hit gone...
Finds sanctimony through a computer screen jumpin loops forward to a blank stare.
Day mourns a mind fram down and under gleams and glares. Optified urban slang, shades that drape form, dies a tired flame. Huddle candle light, sits 5 to a sacred fire....