Spit drips from the jaw of the witless witness Cryptic colloquialism shifts the misfits Dark all I do embark the shadows Involved with my thought catalogue, analogue, rap catalogue Keep my distance and fear resistance, hurt by persistance That twisted web that tangles lies Strangles my hope to waste and numbs the taste And I'm forced to face these hate-crimes Against the state of being Feeling the weight-less-ness pressed between tubes Feeling, reading the round rules Riding a bubble of sound proofing The frequency making you Set, shake with every boom Involuntary muscle contraction In-orientation, drinking musical gas feel euphoria The sound pounds to make the dead flush To have you a head rush with red rhymes and sad stuff