Bite your Mao Ze tongue

 
Rhymes do not sale the postmodern wail
Personification of this spirit illusion wind
Rock n soul rewritten into old wives' tales
Thus the recusare direction to never end,
 
Sun to shine thru their fresh broken part
Now making these gripping suspensions
Outsmarted via their pimp job black arts
Let a rain spark one mind burn condition,
 
Woman keeps me across thought's flame
On espousing every cerebral diatonic line
As material heat into spiritual cold frame
Amidst a realized soul slave pouring time.