Wake Up. 6AM. Walk to the gym. Sick of living out everyday awkward and thin Since I was like 10, I had the longest of limbs But could never reach my fingertips on top of the rim. Stopped taking shots cause I’d get blocked when I did Then had to stop balling to be a confident kid. My friends called, they’d be balling in Javits or Bennet (Park) That woulda meant that I was up in my room with A pad and a pen and the speakers up …but not too loud…cause the neighbors suck Complain that I’ma wake em up Then two weeks later See ‘em in the elevator on the way up to the crib And they don’t even say what up. Only speak up telling me to keep it down, And I’m like…yo: “leave your house! Come on it’s not cold out yo; it’s still light enough to ball!” Man, I’d be sharing deep dark secrets with the moon Till one of them got to banging on their ceiling with a broom. Bump this in your car, Revealing all the boom, The DUFF DUFF DUFF’s what I was Feeling in my room. So I’d shut the beat off Think of the cleverest pun Then have trouble getting it To end on the one, So my flow sucked And you know what? That’s probably why at my first show? You never showed up My friends would hit me up and say some excuse, I’d ignore their texts And head straight for the roof, Lay down on a crooked floor Unsure what I’s looking for, Maybe the day that a label’s able to book a tour… But to wait till I saw shooting stars ain’t feel All that right cause there wasn’t even one’s that stayed still. The heights is flooded by light pollution Blockin out a freckled universe That is life inducing. Cut off from the sun, I forgot where I’s from, Plus, well, that’s the price of moving To a nice institution Just For my schooling Where I met rich kids with toilets too nice to poop in. It was high school, and I’d get rude and question their wealth Like, “why don’t you spend that on something instead of your self?” The answer to which never they in said in detail So an invite to their wedding I’ll never get in the mail… It’ll be like old times! We’ll….well, they. They’ll meet up at the same bar, eating up their Zabar’s, With a Winklevoss Twin Who thinks that “all homeless people are drunk.” Now I can see that he’s in need of a Monk, But back then? B, I wanted to beat the kid up. But I didn’t, cause to do that, I would need to get buff… Some sorrow has a funny way of circling in back. Samsara has a funny way of circling in back. [*Ego Death*] Go to sleep kid. Close your I’s. Go to sleep kid. We all gone die. Close your I’s. Close your I’s. Close your I’s. “Why you sound mad white half your life Then go rappin’ like Em up at the mic?” Shut the fuck up, it’s called refracted light. You see the moon shines When it goes black at night, Cause a million sunrays Incessantly pat the white [face of the] Moon Then ricochet off my floor and up into my face when I’m pacing my room. Since I was safe in the womb, till the day that I’m laid in the tomb, I’m reverberating the waves that have come from a sun That were made in a boom…Bang. Now we’re living out the explosion Till our the day our bodies start giving out to erosion A twinkled star flamed up As my main bud, Donat (De La Cruz), said “One love’s Arisen in this commotion.” So Winklevoss ain’t dumb Just dimwitted in emotion, Limited in his motion, Ignorance Imbedded in the commotion Of every atom Spinning within his skin that pivoted into Okun, Knocking me off course… Of course there’s no off course Even though we say Soft/coarse, dope and wack, cool and lame, to explain when life’s hard for us. But life as you planned it doesn’t exist. Dogmas dichotomize when suffering is bliss Plus life gets better, And hey: your worse day ever has led you to this… [Paulie Jr.] We could be somone’s fingertips just squishing carbon together, And just like seeing what happens and watching the colors and that could go away In a second for him, but we’re riding it cause time’s all relative, And it’s crazy what our spark has become, you know? [La Mama] “Honey! Enough of that jibberjabber! You’ve graduated, it’s time to go into the real world…”

Slipped on ice at the top of stairs Hit the bottom in a pockets of stairs People looking at me, I ain’t looking back B Never been a kid to carry lots of the cares, Just a fuck it and duck quick into the bodega Past the bread where cat was all laid up, Dije “Hola, tía!” Me preguntó if a chick and I made up, I told her, “Give me a dutch” She said, “You wanna order more or that’s it?” E. Oks: “Na just a quarter water, pass it, The redder the better, that sick, word.” I’m looking for the one with the fruitiest punch, I’m hungry, this is all I’m doing for lunch, Or the most I can do with $1.75, So I said peace, looked her dead in her eye, Entonce me dijo, “La vida gets better with time pero mijo, por favor busca una novia instead of more rhymes! Llámala y set up a time – ” (Donat) “Ayo Evan!!!! Veng-Ah-Kah!” (E. Oks) “Ay, me voy tía, lo siento, adiós!” (Tía)“Ayyy, adiós Evan!!” (Donat) “Took you long enough, Being stuck with a dealer on the corner sucks, Or maybe you forgot? First school, then Hawaii… Dawg You been gone a bunch…” (E. Oks) “Donat, Cállate la boca!” (Donat) “Man you better at least bought a dutch! (E. Oks) “Pshhh” (Donat) “Cálmate the fuck down E., Be glad you’re not in Maui And can now eat lunch.” (E. Oks)“[Laughing] You right, you right, Hawaii’s good, but Wash Heights goodER.” I say as I sip a grenade full of tied-died sugar, Then donat said, “Vamos back to crib Let’s climb to the roof of flat where I lived, That’s viví cause ever since my b-day Sherif moved out I ain’t allowed to be there, Plus who has the money no more To fucking afford a two bedroom crib up on 164” (E. Oks) “Yea, but Donat did boss pay you?” (Donat) “Naa” (E. Oks) “That aint cool” (Donat) “Evan, man, ya tu sabe, the lobby door’s open We can bang through” **Boom, Bang* *Foot Steps* So we walked the five flights, to the top of Wash Heights (x2) (Donat) “Standing at an elevation of 177ft, Washington Heights!” Sat down on the ledge, rolled it up, Dutch cracked in two cause it was old as fuck… (Donat) “Evan why the fuck you bought grape one!? It’s been two years since they made them!” (E. Oks) “Man, they don’t sell ‘em on the corner I was raised on” (Donat) “Ah, well, you better’ve brought some tape son” Then we laughed. As his fingers tips were picking at the grass, He had sprinkled in the middle of a cash bill some spilled but still Just ended in his lap. Then he whipped out the double wide paper to cocoon the butter fly, Then we puff puff puff puff puff puff, then hit the oxygen, Just to stop the spin, Of the world as it twirled with the shit we were caught up in. I complained about girls, Till Donat switched the topic and pointed to a building next door where a bunch of little kids were boxed up in. (E. Oks) “What the fuck is that?” (Donat) “That? That’s the juvi-center on Edgecombe where light waves from the sun get trapped” [Edgecombe Correctional Facility, 164th Street] (E. Oks) “Man, what kind of love is that?” I asked as a kid walked to the barred window And lifted it up a crack, Then looked up at us and laughed, Then he through up a peace sign, So we chucked it back… (E. Oks) “He has to be 12 years old, yo … Yo I’m out, Donat – good looks!” (Donat) “Peace Homie!” Then Evan, went up, back to the crib…back to the crib…back to the crib… [La Mama] “Now, pumpkin, you can’t think about that! It’s just gonna get you down. There’s just nothing we can do about it!”

White Slave owners taught money over all, That’s the reason that you think it’s lovely to ball. Bodies by the boat load cutting through the raw Whips up in the closest, money in a ball, Coke up in the dashboard, bloody on the wall, Everybody know: cotton fluffy in fall. Now I see the same shit bumping in your songs, hear it your footsteps running to the mall… Like, “Mmmmm, yeah, cop a deal, on a new pair of shoes that you got to feel,” Nike reported it took a lot to reel Michael Jordan into the room where the pot gets pealed. But he sat down, Next to suited up men, who invented the whip He saw paper cuts had indented the tips Of their fingers and so he was tempted to dip, But he figured he’d stay, At least hear what the what the half bald men had to say That’s when they passed him: pen on a plate. Ink was the blood, wrung from the whip. Michael Jordan’s front tooth, sunk in his lip, One of the bald man, stood, clung to his dick and said: “First you must learn not to feel For those today who have not a meal. Don’t have jobs for the po’ folk, That’s why we gave ‘em pot to deal! ...Gave it to the rich kids too, But told the cops not to care what the rich kids do Cause we do got jobs for them, So long as they take what we offer them, Make sure they’re making the profit and, Put the pill in their palm and pop it in, Pop it in, pop it in! Goes down smooth as Klonopin. Electrons get to colliding in Your gut ‘till you’re hunched up vomiting, Throwing up Gatorade, Ramen (noodles), and The other synthetic shit that we bought for them, Its really pathetic the life we offer them” The men chuckled…then were silent… Till Jordan interrupted them: “Well what you if your kids see the problem and Choose to use what you have to stop it, man?” Mr. Suited Up: “Oh, Michael, stop it man! You think we haven’t thought of them? Every weekend we give ‘em Models and a lot of gin, plus some pot to spin, Into double wide papers that they plop it in, So come Monday they’re down do it all again! Look around you Mike… nothings changing… And they’re okay with that.” (Tory Mathieson on vocals) [La Mama] “Oh my goodness! The other day, I was sitting with him and he passed me a joint! And you know what I did? I was quite the renegade, I took one puff! Oh, but then I started coughing!” [French Woman] “Are you serious! Oh my goodness did you get high off of that? You coughed? That’s crazy” [Phone Rings] “Ayo E. Oks come out to Bennet! There’s a fucking crazy Ciph right now, and some dude’s killing it but you could murder this dude.”

[Unspoken Intro] There are as many grains of sand on planet earth as there are known galaxies in the Universe. Because there is shine, a mirror is made from sand. What does it take to unravel back? [Verse 1] (The Ego): Dawg, what you gonna do to this beat That my man, Jigga Man, couldn’t do at his peak? Perform this at a show and you’ll Boo’d from the seats, Then see a bunch fans, hands down, moving their feet. (E. Oks) Naaa, fuck that, my grove is elite, With fingertips fin to reflect the moon with tweet I’ve got the lunar key To pocket two or three Opportunities Since Saul (Williams) said all I got to do is breath… See, sensei say sun ray wrote Evan his song. Then light waves whispered, “You’re not this Evan for long, Everything you reflect’s a feature in time, so Back Up, Black Out and give the feature some shine.” [Chorus - E. Oks & Tory Mathieson] (Tory) Every time you come around… (E. Oks) Notice as the podium cries… (Tory) Feel it in your bones… (E. Oks) Thick smoke loaded the skies… (Tory): And in your lungs...Every time that you turn it on… (E. Oks) Whole crowd closing there I’s (Tory) Space between the logs…on and on and on… [Verse 2] Homie has skill, knows he raps ill, Kicking it high, fitting inside shoes Thelonious filled, A monk in his inside and it is why he acts real, Sick of the guys, living the lies, spitting to find a fast deal, Kids who feind for the mass appeal Who spit ‘bout things that the massEs feel But turn turn “E” into an “A” and the past reveals Your free to pursue the cash yet freedom is what The cash will steal… So I walk bare foot to sit on the peer, Get to yellig at the ocean that I’m sick of this mirror, He waved. Then said, “Listen my dear, Fuck a mirror and a beach, all you need’s the feature licking your ear,” [Chorus] (Tory) Every time you come around… (E. Oks) Notice as the podium cries… (Tory) Feel it in your bones… (E. Oks) Thick smoke loaded the skies… (Tory): And in your lungs...Every time that you turn it on… (E. Oks) Whole crowd closing there I’s (Tory) Space between the logs…on and on and on… [Verse 3: E. Oks] I get high off the up beat, Rocking scuffed sneaks, Feeling like every other year Doesn’t have enough weeks To touch peaks of rough beats from love seats In swim suits on plump beaches where I’m reclining, There with my guys and a little bit of Jack (Nicholson), Nickles in the sack, so they stair at The Shining. They used to the story of dudes getting gory Till I introduce ‘em to Tory Who back handles the Jack Daniels, Heavy on her breath as she unwax candles, Which makes me the wick in the middle Thick as a riddle as I twisted a nic’ of my last handful, Flipping back channels, scuffed sneaks melting back Into black sandles… See dog, this beat requires beach attire, It’s time to re-peice the pyre With scuffed sneaks and tuns of other stuff we require We’ll heat each desire, leave the entire, Venue stoked, Saying, “The beat is dope, and that dude E.’s no joke, But the feature’s fire!” [Chorus] (Tory) Every time you come around… (E. Oks) Notice as the podium cries… (Tory) Feel it in your bones… (E. Oks) Thick smoke loaded the skies… (Tory): And in your lungs...Every time that you turn it on… (E. Oks) Whole crowd closing there I’s (Tory) Space between the logs…on and on and on… [Outro: Tory Mathieson]

[Unspoken Intro - E. Oks] Simplemente mírame. Soy un niño, pequeñito, con la mascara del tígare. [Verse 1- E. Oks] Um, no. I can’t, I’m busy. I mean I woulda but my plans have gotten shifty… And I don’t know if I’m in love with love enough for this. Plus what if I stumble into Snuffleupagus On a bus and as it bumping down and up He starts fussing and discussion all the bucket list Things that I told him I would do As a little kid with dreams Before I was buried back into the nothingness? Its just there’s mad people in world. And recently it’s seemed to me that each one is a pearl Wrapped around the neck of a God I gotta know, And so I’m sorry doll, but I gotta go. [Verse 2 - E. Oks] I don’t know why, but it felt like some good luck to go, So I got up and left bare foot to foot-fuck the snow. But got afraid it would melt away and so I brought a bucketful Back to the crib, tucked it in Back of the fridge Next to where the cabinet is, Where a hundred of the happiest mice happened to live, Each of which grabbed and then hung from the roof, Three from the throat, two from the tail, a ton from the tooth, Then I watched them swing. [Verse 3 - E. Oks] I’m unable to do All the “Table for two,” So you should tell the waiter that The tables for you… Oh wait the waiter was you? You set out the utensils made all the food? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It just mad hard to see you you. Lost in my reflection, I didn’t see you anymore… Damn, Where the listener’s I’s went? Dang it, I gouged them. Went single for six months and **banged** out an album. See, babe, I been growing the self, Where as every time I’ve been wifed I’d put my Flow on the shelf, So go ahead, blow up the cell… But on the “Stairway to Heaven” I wont bend over the rail. Same is true if I hike a “Pill Box.” And this ain’t metaphor, it’s life in real talk: Hawaii was so ill I didn’t happen to write Any rap while there Or on the half a day flight back to the heights Where I met up with Donat To cop him a dutch – Oh god, sorry for talking so much? I doubt you’re interested in the chase I want to cut to. Initially, see, my intent was not to interrupt you When I started speaking, didn’t know that I erupt dude, I guess I just wanted to let you know I’ve been up to… But it’s cool, everything evaporates, while breath rocks on its hinges (please see Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind by Shunryu Suzuki), so I’ll just hit the roof, and just watch it swing. [Unspoken Outro - E. Oks] The issue is: Singing this track, Isn’t bringing me back, Neither is standing still with my feet on a map Of CT Or watching Thich Nhat Hanh upon the TV Talking on real long bout (a) how I’m Greedy Or (b) how everything we build will get tour down, There ain't no cabinet that's big enough to store now, How can I trust your vows, When everything evaporates.

[Dope Sounding Dumb Shit – David Stouck] 6'0 Smoking Cali by the Bucket And if you're hating be happy boy you can suck it You can find me in the Copenhagen, Smoking from a broken vape and hopefully stroking naked honeys as sweet as coke and bacon. I move souls like a man leaving, Fool's gold, my inspiration is banned readings, It makes me feel like a black Jew at a Klan meeting Chant freedom all damn evening while my hands weaving off beat, Beat off, bust a groove Mic check 1,2 could make some dumb shit move Blues clues, who chooses what these youngsters view If I did it, I did it, but never did it for you. [The Critique – Izzy] Well who you do it fuh, bruh? Regret to tell you that your movement ain’t enough, cause, Marijuana ain’t the only thing lifting us up. We ask for answers got the masses asking, “What?! What?!” Every passage has a classic aspect I bump, bump Tracks and tunes tat will move you too the grove My interludes make party people wanna jump-jump, Make actors take action and get loose, too. Said you, “Do it for no one,” Isn’t this a cool Example of a rapper doing what he could? We mention the forces of the push and pull Of tension and torture but we never lull. It’s urgent I urge ya to swerve all ya verses to purging theses issues, Like, please dude. This thesis might be the adhesive we need to bring people to reasons, We need to. Dudes we came from A lineage of lyricists who did persists who made up their minds To change stuff, Refined themselves to social symbols, broke through windows, Lets rekindle monumental not no lame fucks, ahright? [Critique of the Critique – E. Oks] I thought speaking would tear this up, Share the love, but me and the listeners? Well, uh, we been aware as fuck And nothing has changed. We’re stuck with same It’s fucking insane Bullets holes popping out a Bucket of rain God of craving pulls strings that I’m Puppeted to Every time his wrist flutters I move. I’m just another mother fucker Who is stuck in the groove Preaching bout some “love” That does nothing for you, “You,” being the two men Who needed some food when I was hopping up on the train to meet with my boo and Go greet her with bouquets Of flowers that gon’ die in a week By which time I’m in Hawaii Since I fly to beach The thirty first, Seven days after writing this dirty verse While Wondering who I am to preach? [Critique of the Critique of the Critique] “Critique is where we deposit our anxieties” – Sara Ahmed, Declarations of Whiteness: The Non-Performativity of Anti-Racism; Borderlands, The University of Lancaster, Vol. 3, No. 2, 2004 [Unspoken Interlude] Some sorrow has a funny way of circling back. [The Programming – E. Oks] Pluck a tree from the soil that it gives it life And a pine smell that’s just the type Of dope to soak your home with doses of Christmas–hype To please old fold & kids a like. Lug the tree into your crib And suffocate its limbs with Christmas Lights, So it isn’t missed come Christmas night By Mr. White Who just so nice to bring gifts at night And other well wrapped (rapped) expectations You let live your life [Circling Back Outro]

[Intro – E. Oks] Light skin, type thin Smoke pot a whole lot and might binge. Light tint on the window, Living as they sitting in circles puffing that purple wit a light grin, Right then get cyphing. 6th blunt will make you wonder where light went, And if the tint’ll prevent it from getting in Then better bet I’m gone. [Verse 1 – E. Oks] No ring ding dong She’d just knock on the door, the Clock had hit four, She’d walked up the block Talk to a cop, reach into an empty wallet And given guap get the poor: Esa es mi madrina. The only person en mi vida who could ever get me to talk when I’z four, And so I’d babble on and on till 8pm, Which was late, as miss Ada played us Claude (Debussy) as she poured – Wait, by she I mean Milagros – poured that dope Morir Soñando, cuando: Castles, Capitpults and catatonic action figures Faught on the floor. I remade the great white fight scene My sister fingertiped the light beams And I died up in her night dreams, And soon she capped off, Milagros would clap, stop, Then start applauding some more Cause Ada had wrecked the song, Leaving us to reflect upon The perfected reflection of God in her chords [Chorus 1: Tory Mathieson & E. Oks] (Tory) Ring ding dong, ring-ah-ding-ding-ding-dong…(x2) (E. Oks) Mi madrina me enseña como bailar… Mi madrina me enseña todo… Mi madrina, un día pronto, va a sacar la loto… [Verse 2: E. Oks] Now I would never Fault her enlightenment Pero mi madrina prays to alter of white men. Whether it Jesus, Santa, or the telanovela, Kneeled front a pointed nose she’s never been better, And I never will tell her cause she’d still praise the image Of my great, great, great, great, great great, great grand-pa Who loved to rape and pillage – I mean, first he’d aske nice, But say no? He’ll take your village And can you blame him? For real, though, can you blame him? Chill! Don’t be mad he was a baller at birth, Who wouldn’t wanna Cum all over the walls of a church, Now who countries pray to him, But it was a cold world that he made it in – Oh God, I know he’s gonner, but it’s truly an honor to say he kin So, I take it in and start to feel great within, Then hit up illiterate liberal Who refuse to give up what he gave to them [Chorus 2: Harmonica by Sam Friedman] (La Mama) “Now, watch your mouth! Your father and I worked hard for what we have. No one helped us! Over the past four years you have grown so ungreatful! Go to your room! [Verse 3: E. Oks] It’s your fault, for sending me to a school that is mad prestigious, Where I learned grand-dad rolled deep with a pack of bigots, Now that I stopped believing In the gospel he preached in You’ve gone off the deep end, calling me sacrilegious? Na, fuck that! I guess mistaking your reflecting for his image has its limits. You do nothing all day, go to thank the lord at dinner And then think that that’s sufficient? And even all that is to impress The dinner guests, But what about the little kids Starving to death?? God damn. You think praying for them is enough, Ma? How, how, how ‘bout you give everything that still isn’t yours back? Milagros me dijo que dios is mad exquisite, showed me where his crib was so I had to visit. At first it was odd, Had some hurt it resolved, Went to church, talked to God, Then forgot to grab his digits. So now every time I hit him up it go… [Chorus 3: Tory Mathieson & E. Oks] (Tory) Ring ding dong, ring-ah-ding-ding-ding-dong…(x2) (E. Oks) Hello? [Outro: Tupac Shakur]

[Intro: Falling asleep] [First Dream – E. Oks] Now right before I walk out And the whole crowd goes crazy, I’m chilling backstage with a few chicks, One of which is my lady, Telling me that I’ma do sick Cause my music’s so wavy, (E. Oks) “But what if I were to loose it, my mood’s shifting daily,” She said, “Chill, don’t worry ‘bout shit like that, You freestyled a show, You surely gone’ spit tight rap.” And I said, “Na, you don’t really know that Stop acting like you do! Man, fuck, can someone get me Some grass to lighten my mood?” She said, “Wow what happened To don’t give a fuck and let go? Evan at the end of this There’s nothing you know?” (E. Oks) “But what if the man with The drum in his hand has trouble with flow? Or something don’t go According to plan and the trumpetest man Is speeding it up? Or someone is slow? Or what if the man who is strumming his hand – ” (Her) “Only plays half of the chord? Evan, listen, I can’t deal with your nagging no more. Every since you dropped that mixtape for ‘shit’s sake’ Your ass has been sore, Plus you ain’t really been rapping at all, Just ragging on rappers…or bragging. Yapping your trap about going platinum When your track hits the stores and I like the Evan who likes to laugh when he’s bored…” I gasped, ‘cause I had just asked what passion is for, And I could hear them rustling now, Only a curtain ‘tween us and the crowd, Hundreds of people that love to get loud, Jumping so high they got stuck in a cloud, From where they shouted, “It don’t matter no more!” So I hopped on stage As the crowd splashed on the floor… [Second Dream] I wanna be the type of famous Where everyone in the crowd has their camera out Adjusting its position, lens blocking their vision, So no one would really listen as I ran my mouth, And after when I asked em what I jammed about? They be scratchin on they head to get the dandruff out, But hey, dried up, flakey’s what they’re used to, Trade me, for HD in the future, But I bet a billion bucks, When they blast it for their buds, They see what they used to: A little bit of me and a lotta bit of them, word, That’s your model citazen-ship-wreck, Bitch, yes, I’da been offended But I often sit the Zen temples out of business, So I know not to put up a down payment on the rental of a slit wrist, That’s the reason I got everyone of my Ego stencils on a hit list. Word, I got many of them, plenty are dead, But I still got plenty to come So ready the rum and steady the drum, I’m ready to gun down the one who’ll out confetti the Sun. Son, see, even if I jam for the crowd With big speakers booming your camera’s too loud So put ‘em down. Leave the future behind. And fall face flat into the music of rhyme Then say what up and give a dap to the dude by your side… Word up. Like that. That just happened, there’s absolutely nothing You can do to rewind, we’re moving through time, Sun waves booming as we’re pursuing smooth grooves to unwind, Some waves to listen to as we just float back, So when this is done don’t clap, just move with your mind.

[Third Dream] Each camera flash pulls your self-protecting narrative to the forefront of your conscious. Soon enough, you get lost imagining yourself through the camera's lens. The brightness of this imagine blinds you to the ocean of energy you are surrounded by. It is as if you are behind a glass wall looking out onto the Grand Canyon – only it is night, and there is a bright light on your side of the glass. So illuminated, all you can see is your reflection. But do not fear. Your body is a pill - love makes it all dissolve.

[Fourth Dream - Safia & Jamaica] my body is a pill, small, and love is the wrong man's tongue to tell me so
 my body dissolves
 my body finds men who are water and calls them home

 my body is everything that happened to me
 love is a thing my body borrows to forget
 love is a pill
 my body is water.
 my body is a tongue and love dissolves
 love calls the wrong men home
 love makes my body a stain and goes
 looking for water on the wrong man's tongue

 love is a house, my body is a bath drawn in floodwater
 my body trickles in through the floorboards
 love is the carpet that I've ruined
 love is an alternative to water,
 love is just something to do until the wars start
 my body is a border drawn up by some man long ago
 love is everything that happened in between
 love is the floorboards
 my body is decoration
 love ruined all the carpets
 my body is the carpet
 my body is the stain
 love makes it all dissolve
 love is an alternative to home
 love is floodwater

 my body burned to the ground
 my body called the wrong man home
 love started the fire
 my body is everything that happened after

 the wrong man is an alternative to love
 the wrong man is a map
 home is where he puts the lines
 my body is a border drawn by accident
 by the wrong man's tongue
 love makes scars on my body and calls them borders
 the wrong man mistakes my body for a body of water
 love let the wrong man decide what my body mistakes for home
 love started the fire

 my body is a house on fire
 my body drew a bath in floodwater
 the wrong man is floodwater
 love and the wrong man are an alternative to hating my body
 my body is a body of water, poured over everything that happened to me
 my body makes every scar an island
 the wrong man makes my body small, a pill
 love makes the water
 and my body dissolves

[Fifth Dream] (E. Oks) I was born at the drip of the drip, And I’ll keep on ‘till the rippling stops (Marguerite) Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohhh… Never gonna stop… [Verse 1 – E. Oks] It all started at the tick of a tock: God, sitting at the tip of the top, ‘Till love started looking for some liquor to cop And patience to itching for it’s pick of the crop Lick of pop, a nickel to cop, And so the two started flipping birds Hoping that pigeon would squawk, And if it didn’t they would hit it with rocks, Sit and just watch, Loved it when the blooded wings fidget and flop [Chorus Version Two] [Verse 2- E. Oks] Craving cut corners to grab some grub That he could feast on, Pacing back and forth until the friction Left the street gone, Feets all: tangled and off beat, Mangled as two to tango To one love up at the cross street, Meanwhile, five floors above, Donat be All up at the top of the roof, 'Cause he'd broken the loop, Burned up the barbwrire and opened the coop. And then he hit the dime as they fled, Felt like he was ten again, Reclining in bed, And he watched as the pigeons got To lining the edge Of the top of the roof across, where a Dr. was docked And soon got to assigning them meds, Until Donat said: "Take that and you'll be punched in the gut! Behind that white coat he's tucked in a pump! There's one love, it's up to you to suck it on up," Confused, one of the pigeons just said fuck it and jumped... [Chorus 3] [Outro] (La Mama) "Honey, wake up..."