alcoholic author

Ill tell you what I want... I want something now
This is the life like I left, you know what I mean?'
[Verse 1]
Like Bekowsky the alcoholic author
Son of the devil I turn wine into water
My physical forms a metaphor for disorder
Absorb the trauma, my state is before the light
And I am short of time, short to find my keeper
Alive within reach of the reaper
The lights sleeper drifts deeper into darkness
Read my palm and see the evil of my forefathers
Born after the last generation of gypsies
Move from the sticks to the citys
Give me 26 characters for home sick travellers
Bi-centennial men, hunter gatherers
Who run with the scavengers and brave the dangers
My tongue a labyrinth in this maze of pages
Playin David, I stand defiant to the last standing giant
The android man, I walk silent and talk science
The child who sought guidance
The war cry echoes through these blood stained empires
[Hook]
' A man of many premonitions, Jehst'
'... Scruffy little man from the wasteland...'
'Moo jew sipping step children off the earth was...
Fixing Smirnoff with anti-liner burner'
'A man of many premonitions, Jehst'
'... Scruffy little man from the wasteland...'
'Moo jew sipping step children off the earth was...'
'Speaking in barbed wire tongues'
[Verse 2]
Fascinated by the fire like a child tryna touch the flame
I see change like a busk, everything stay much the same
Cut the weather vein
I hear blood water tapping out the lords morse code on my window pane
Irain dance till the harvest comes
Brave hearts keep beating to the hardest drums
Bastard sons are lost Gods long forgotton
Monolithic heads on this island gone rotten
On top of the world or on the bottom of the food chain
We stay the same but our fears take a new name
Were all players so place your bets
You made your bed, lay in it and pray for the best
Deaths door stays open to all without prejudice
Im the fifth element of war with my nemesis
Brain storm genesis this is the start
My whole worlds overcast so I live in the dark
I adapt now my vision is sharp
Go home to my house made of glass
And throw stones for a laugh
The favourite that came in last
I clutch at straws and Im cut by a blade of grass
I done enough for you, youve done nothing for me
Im puffing the tree, the bloodshed youre rushing to see
'Look we gotta hold ourselves together... we got to
See man if we go to pieces somebody out theres gonna get us'
'Latest sports news off the street box
Our friends are on second base and trying to make it all the way home
But the inside word is that the odds are against them
Stay tuned bumba ras, stay tuned