I am sitting in a song, the mind has gone on too long,
And I keep on.
If this is a dream well, word is bond.
And I keep it on and on.
SO, I got hemmed up in Malden singing to Pete,
One day everyone knows the name of Peter Geraghty
My peer lost to another complication of COVID-19,
So, I am not doing a bid, but got time to think.
Chilling with every thought and the kitchen sink.
Singing cause my mind found the missing link.
Cause tragedy and triumph is everywhere if you look.
But if the oil needs changing and so is the season,
Than the word means more than some fucking live streaming.
So, I chill on a beach in paradise, wherever I am is where is my mind,
And where are you when I write, cause I am watching my fingers typing.
Listening to the tip, tap, tip tap, of some CBD boombap, but I go fast,
This ain’t angel rap, this is some cat trying to hold me back a friend like my dad.
I met some other cool cats, and nine lives are yet to be had.
And I am chilling with a deadline,
In MWH chilling, poised to make a million,
Chill on ABILIFY doctors, and FUCK that vraylar feeling.
Let the CBD chill, of smoke from the green grass reside,
They might got me in here, but they aint got my mind.
So peace to this crew, peace to that crew, see you at tour, at a theater nearest you.
That’s a Tribe Called Quest Line,
(Thought You Knew.)

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His new book is Train of Thought.

 

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