Weary With Toil
Thursday, May 26th, 2011
Even if it’s jazz in the quiet storm
Bebop converted in a hip hop form
(Repeat)
Visions of a musical plateau
Thoughts fill my mind
So I draw back and take aim
Lyrical shots blast through the darkness
When I spark this
I leave an undescribable blood stain
Hold fast, no need to panic
There’s no slipping...





























































