Beg you listen me, don't be kissing me 'til I'm done
Unsung champion, reason, like seasoning
Pepper your thoughts with spice, and entice you to a space
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Where I dwell with bass players and layers and loops
Think what I think with my prayers. It's nice. My world is everything I've become
Contained in the hum between voice and drum
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I'm coming from the same place I'm still running from
But even sitting in the garden one can still get stung
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