So I was given the opportunity to do some things
Use the wings, fly a little higher, a maneuver flings
The mood it swings, running rings around a rainbow
Taking the time to soak it in and then arrange flows
Who's got the set of words to properly direct the verse
I ought to be a mess of nerves
But, somehow, I'm staying calm in the midst of this
Making songs, Chumzilla still assisted with
80 beats a single folder, that's the randomness
Digging through to find the treasure that I ramble in
Putting on my shoes with the lifts to walk it out
No disrespect to Steve Rifkind, that is not allowed
The beat's different, so I change adapt accordingly
Not stacking paper, make them clap with rap for sure it's heat
Take a tour or three, we're providing the guidance
And if required, we're bringing the fire to hydrants

But this one here, nah, it's pretty chill
So I write it to the plant leaves swaying on the window sill
My wife's the one handling all the of variegation
I sneak downstairs to write, my oldest son barely awakened
The younger son is already eating toaster strudels
Leaving flakes on the iPad, playing games with hopeful movements
Crouching over the screen like those old dudes with Mah Jongg
Back in the days when China was my home, a lost song
The culture war survivor smoking Marleys at the postal
I'm buying stamps to mail loneliness that's hopeful
Back in my spot, I've got a giant paper on the wall
Listing who and when I mailed my letters to, I want to stall
A friend mailed me aromatics and so I'm smoking them
As though I travel to my home again, lungs are broken in
It won't begin to help the isolated, but I try
Strike the match and breathe in deeply with my wonder why