Interlude
Knowledge is blasted out of minds like amplifiers,
rhymed and produced over truth's two turntables.
Ideas transmit beats through these hidden cables,
serene melodies capture poverties implied words.
"Yes, yes, ya'll."
..and freedom freefalls.
"but ya dont..."
Stop.
Thoughts just mosh into many lost crowded bodies
Creating naked pits of ego's with few true survivors
A guitarist's solo sold halo's but pulled soul's trigger
Branding scarred youth on all viewing new humanity
(Melodic riffs rift fate
Mic check, 1 - too late
the beat faints...)
Society rightly forgot to time signature this rhythm
since It can't be measured by any mans metronome
Musical dreams are now heard, if only in monotone
Sterotypes still blaring beliefs in soundproof schisms
Heartbeat: Stop
Music: Shot
Headphones: Off