Beg you listen me, dont be kissing me til Im done
Unsung champion, reason, like seasoning
Pepper your thoughts with spice, and entice you to a space
Where I dwell with bass players and layers and loops
Think what I think with my prayers. Its nice. My world is everything Ive become
Contained in the hum between voice and drum
Im coming from the same place Im still running from
But even sitting in the garden one can still get stung
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