just muz – outro-visible كلمات اغاني
you have been listening, or should i say
experiencing an audiovisual form of witnessing
a man that cannot be witnessed
with the eyes iris, i digress…
yes, my flesh is physical, though it is indivisible
from the atmosphere and air where i drift ghostlike
most like the winter wind whistling through your fingertips
see i slip from your grip, the inconspicuous conspiracist
of lyricism never reflected by mirror vision
unseen by agents and industries, critics and all
pitted to fall but i rise to the occasion
toast your host
with his rhymes and deranged arrangements invading
your sp-ce, laying waste to nations, abrasive manners…
true, spray saline in the cuts, saliva raining cats and canines
with a flash flood flow, super smash pro’s like bro’s with prose
and poetry, you know it’s me, the oratorical one
metaphorical songs, singing, singing your follicles
and sinking your coracles…
gone
historical prominent economist on a mission
to cancel out my insufficient funds
the quickest tongue in the wild west, and i will draw…
raw pictures, encrypted with more wisdom than 40 torn scriptures
ripped from cairo egyptian hieroglyphics inscribed on the richest walls
from kitchen halls, to porcelain record label coffee tables sitting
in polished lobby floors, with rocking cradles and lawyer lullabies
to lure an artist under a spell. believing their retrieving water
from the most wonderful well, which once down the ladder
becomes a dry, colorless h-ll waiting on sails on with no wind
unable to climb, unable to rhyme without permission and meetings
greetings planet earth, i have burst above clouds and now look down
to begin my reign
the king of the under dogs, strike with the mic like a thunder god
lightning rods arrive in time enshrined in lines
overcoming frightening odds to find your minds
and tune them like radio frequencies, frequently easily freeze mc’s
amazed and weak at the knees, when i reach for the sheets
tweaked from the leaves of amazonian trees, throw me your pleas
flee over the seas, while i rule like napoleon’s dreams
about to blow like petroleum coated in grease, stroked with butane
and fire that floats in the breeze
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