Good music speaks volumes… rather than impose analysis, step back and expose linguistic artistry… why critique that which has achieved perfection at its own masterful conception… listen, look, and linger in fantastic rhythmic reality: lyrically speaking

Life is but a dream to me, I don’t wanna wake up
Thirty odd years without having my cake up
So I’m about my paper: 24/7, 365,366 in a leap year
I don’t know why we here, since we gotta be here
Life is but a beach chair
Went from having shabby clothes, crossing over Abbey Roads
Hear my angels singing to me: “Are you happy HOV?”
I just hope I’m hearing right, Karma’s got me fearing life
Colleek are you praying for me

See I got demons in my past, so I got daughters on the way
If the prophecy’s correct, then the child should have to pay
for the sins of a father; so I barter my tomorrows against my yesterdays
In hopes that she’ll be OK
And when I’m no longer here, to shade her face from the glare
I’ll give her my share of Carol’s Daughter and a new beach chair…

Life is but a beach chair, this song is like a Hallmark card
Until you read each here, so till she’s here
And she declared the heir, I will prepare
A blueprint for you to print, a map for you to get back
A guide for your eyes, and so you won’t lose scent
I’ll make a stink for you to think

Everything is perfect about the future, except the past that led to it…

The most amazing feeling I feel
Words can’t describe the feeling, for real
Maybe I paint the sky blue
My greatest creation was you: Glory

The most beautifulest thing in this world, daddy’s little girl – you
But you was made in Paris, and mama woke up the next day and shot her album
Last time the miscarriage was so tragic, we was afraid you disappeared
But nah, baby you magic

Glory! Glory! Glory! Sorry…

Watch This Space

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