I’m sedated and sincerely syncopated
A sidekick to every solitary sign that these symbols inside us are leaving syllables behind us
Sadly, the sounded out silence succeeds in sowing a signal of savory severity
So I sign this sermon of enticement and secure seven some odd years of cycled ciphers

Getting down with the silly sound of sibilance, that sibilance, that sibilance
Hear the clasp of the hi hat; tsst tsst, no turning back
Oh yes, this sibilance
Go to town with the sweet sound of sibilance, that sibilance, that sibilance
Hear the clasp of the hi hat; tsst tsst, no turning back
Oh yes, this sibilance

Silly secrets, you cannot slither on in safety
Slang for a slave gamer unless savagery is simplified to a synonym for sorry
The second solution will use the systems suggestion for a plan to sabotage
The singled out saboteur, slick sawed off
Spectacles personified as a solid sculpture
Without the senses or a sculptor
Now listen closer and then slide it around
Cause this side turns frowns upside down
To save the face as our new lace creates a space to stop the race

Slow the sands that seldom soar now southward
Watch the shadows burn… Earth shakers can now return

Submit and surrender to this sentient story, its shivering synthesis for glory
Set it off and let it seep until synapses fill and spill with fits of cysts, yet still insists
That these small incisions are consciously scolding each and every little twist
Surely in snide reference to the sole shift survived by a self-sustained entrance
Doors to the pre-Socratic under scores, sunken ships where the Eastern winds have swirled
Encircling the century in search of unseen swords to enslave our sadistic world