walk into a haze of confusion and pollution, stand on corners of city blocks slinging rocks like i own these places...
prophets walk past, collapse as their faith messages fall on deaf faces and ashy concrete stared at by haunted gazes...
replaced angst with praise when i saw ocean waves claim territory and divinity declaration, this is his freedom song...
coffins turned to life savers, as precious as it is the voice calls the unworthy and its our occupation to play along...
hypnotizing mind tricks these mirages dissipate into collages of bitter men studying their fathers unloving barrages...
sit in curiosity as a cacophony of noise rises from the faithful waiting patiently and leading upward their entourages...

-just in urban melody-