| First snow of winter
|
| I’m walking hills and valleys
|
| Adore this mystical fog
|
| This fucking mist
|
| These cliffs are just showing off
|
| Then the body memory kicks in
|
| I mime my home mountains
|
| The moss that I’m made of
|
| I redeem myself
|
| I’ve been wrestling my fate
|
| Do I accept this ending?
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| Will I accept my death
|
| Or struggle claustrophobic?
|
| Fought like a wolverine
|
| With my destiny
|
| Refuse to accept what was meant to be
|
| Then the body memory kicks in
|
| And I trust the unknown
|
| Unfathomable imagination
|
| Surrender to future
|
| Oh how to capture all this love
|
| And find a pathway for it
|
| Like threading an ocean through a needle
|
| River through a keyhole
|
| Can’t fathom the grasp
|
| I can’t grasp the fathom
|
| Then my body memory kicks in
|
| My limbs and tongue take over
|
| Like the ancestors before me
|
| Show me the flow
|
| My sexual DNA
|
| X-rays of my Kama Sutras
|
| Summons different bodies
|
| Compares spines and buttocks
|
| And back of necks
|
| And my body memory kicks in
|
| Simply takes over, beastiality
|
| I redeem my body
|
| I wasn’t born urban
|
| Toxic doesn’t agree with me
|
| Love lured me here into a stagnant state
|
| My myths, my customs, ridiculed
|
| Vacuum packed molecules
|
| Then my body memory kicks in
|
| On this Brooklyn dance floor
|
| Sweating with these rhythms
|
| Rotate this matrix
|
| All trapped in legal harness
|
| Kafkaesque
|
| Farce like patriarchy
|
| Avoided to confront it
|
| Then the body memory kicks in
|
| My warrior awakens
|
| My turn to defend
|
| Urban didn’t tame me
|
| Then my body memory kicks in
|
| All bosoms and embraces
|
| Oral, anal entrances
|
| Enjoy the satisfaction
|
| If the other is growing |