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Listen...I'm the eruption in the Red Light District even if u don't pay attention u won't miss it// What am I? ...sorta sounds like genocide./ pandemonium.the whistle of bullets raining from a killa-sky// A Killa-guy is not quite I. I'm thunderous rhythms when gods-Cry/ The click that brings horror to a thug guy's-eye// I'm the cough of sickness, ever relentless/ the sound of Mr.Grim's pencil scratchin names off his hit-list// Wishless bitches gettin paid for sex position switches/ in their never ending quest of financial richness// some say-man I'm the clatter of change-cans/ I'm the sermon from the pastor dedicated to save-man// soundless as a broken heart just as broken as the home it derived/ the same sound as a man dead once he arrived// __________________________/V\/\m__m/V\v/\v\/(pulse) The pulse of life reborn, from death's grip torn/ or new birth rings loud like fog horns// The fire of burning desire sparking its embers/ Melodies of love's 1st sighting still young and tender// Just remember the past of the hands we've been dealt/ cuz even if u're deaf these sounds can still be felt// just Listen...... |
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