[Intro: Propaganda]
Sound
'Tis quite the unsung playground, isn't it?
Invisible, yet undeniable
Felt, but not touched
It's quite a miracle, a conundrum
An ever-present presence
That backbone
The spine of yours and every playlist
'Tis our spaceship
Close your eyes, lean back, ear buds in
Ride those mind waves to the shores of distant memories
Or imagine futures
Amazing
Its an escape artist
Which always takes the willing with it
And its a stupid question;
Of course falling trees make these sounds
It's a different type of lean like "I don't need no lights just a direct box"
Close your eyes and feel the ground shake from the ba** kick, similar to how the earth came to be
So this is a sound off, a send-off for those who've been pissed off or pissed on for that matter
Say word, this is not seen, but fo' sho' heard
Ya' heard?