[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?