Trapped between the sound of splashing and touching water
Wearing fanfares to allay fear
Fostering first finishes from ticks glimmering
Stand within ear shot of the gun to know your target
Is clapping the fruit of the harvest?
Drown, and become a compass from a floating carcass.
Another one who did the math only to make up the numbers
Saddled with sackcloth, shame and numbness
Straddling feint margins, seeking waves as markers.
Struggling to strum the melody of the barking.
Seeking to beat this with heartstrings.
A war-torn dome is only enlightened by stillness.
Choose your weapon before tumbleweed kills you.
Strike with every breath, release gold or reach home.
Time the trapeze, then reach and step.
Let your soul know this was a good body to rent.
About to be the 3, 5, I’m laid up with teenage fever.
Feeling like Janet Jackson without the safety of a pre-nup
Our roads, different, we ran on petrol and diesel
Our roads different, supposedly Adidas and Asics,
Drumming our bases, we found laces/ electrifying connections like both worlds were tasered
Face to face we were a fumbling fortress of ferocious fondness
Maybe I’d been chasing Amy or maybe Gin met Tonic
See London at 1.30 birthed 7am in Germany
Had to check mate like we were head to toe in Burberry.
The bucket list met a vision causing intercontinental collision
Audibly adrenaline was all the way up, like it was a day of ascension.
There were starry eyed smiles brighter than Borealis,
The aura of sharp shooters turned battlefields to gardens
How do you spend time with someone and feel like you’ve left with a bargain?
Jumpin Jack Flash, they love our Black Flash
Lean on us like a back slash,
Get raw talented braggadocio all about to make cash
Yet like a cow to a Masai drain cash
Cos they’re pinned up like a thumbtack
Enslaved to chinese whispers about how they run that
Yet bad contracts, corrupt contacts stunt that
Life blood drained because they slash the vain
Get you insane in the membrane as they yank the reins
So many artists don’t have business brains
Stepping into the game being hustle trained will make you spaz out OJ,
Act a fool like OJ,
Yet its wise guys with sharp minds, not white guys, or bright eyes or curves, cleavage and nice thighs
Who see the ladder and climb
Aesthetics and substance must combine to be more devastating than Columbine
Kill your nightmares with a dream realised