Musashi, by Blackbird Belle

Musashi

by Blackbird Belle

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1.	Musashi 02:24	lyrics	buy track
I arose from my throne in the shadows of coming comets Amid colosseum columns of stone, the lone prophet I kick tones, eroding the tectonics Noble sensei - technique’s encoded in psionics My katana, composed of honed onyx In my mind it’s obsidian, glowing through blown chronic Bionic adamantium bones, electronics And a cerebellum home to adrenochrome tonic And my soliloquy’s sick, the raw liquidity drips The laced lips with the taste of the bubonic The most luscious of my touchstone sonnets Even King Tutankhamun couldn’t be reached for comment There’s no discussion - I crushed those percussives Drum kits whooping like bouts with pertussis Without a doubt, the pound stays concussive The ground splits, so drown in the sound - but don’t rush it I survived by the roll of the die I read the tarot, and it told me what Iscariot tried Hattori Hanzo - stories of the legend arise Now I’m living where that narrative flies I walk soft with an uchigatana to stay frosty Recommend that demon’s never accost me The technique’s told in the scroll of Musashi So my mental mass shattered every volley they tossed me From mellow to the molotov - all of it taught me Too many fall, to the tanto at top speed But not me - I’m slayin’ oni at mach three Like Sekiro - parry any blow cut across me But somehow, now I’m left with a half a home Errant thoughts caught rattling in a scattered dome Seed sown - so I reap the serotonin flow Seep the baritone into the feedback of a microphone Paint it black, it’s the genesis of genomes The brainstem chemist is kickin’ with lone ketones Look Professor… I don’t need Cerebro I’ll jot in katakana in tomes to hone the ethos Now look, I’m not a Corleone Vito I just spit in monotones on binaural torpedoes But I could snap six infinity stones And de-exist every foe, just by growin’ my own mythos
2.	Musashi (Instrumental) 02:24	info	buy track

about

I arose from my throne in the shadows of coming comets
Amid colosseum columns of stone, the lone prophet
I kick tones, eroding the tectonics
Noble sensei - techniques encoded in psionics
My katana, composed of honed onyx
In my mind it’s obsidian, glowing through blown chronic
Bionic adamantium bones, electronics
And a cerebellum home to adrenochrome tonic
And my soliloquy’s sick, the raw liquidity drips
The laced lips with the taste of the bubonic
The most luscious of my touchstone sonnets
Even King Tutankhamun couldn’t be reached for comment
There’s no discussion - I crushed those percussives
Drum kits whooping like bouts with pertussis
Without a doubt, the pound stays concussive
The ground splits, so drown in the sound - but don’t rush it

I survived by the roll of the die
I read the tarot, and it told me what Iscariot tried
Hattori Hanzo - stories of the legend arise
Now I’m living where that narrative flies
I walk soft with an uchigatana to stay frosty
Recommend that demons never accost me
The technique’s told in the scroll of Musashi
So my mental mass shattered every volley they tossed me
From mellow to the molotov - all of it taught me
Too many fall, to the tanto at top speed
But not me - I’m slayin’ oni at Mach 3
Like Sekiro - parry any blow cut across me
But somehow, now I’m left with a half a home
Errant thoughts caught rattling in a scattered dome
Seed sown - so I reap the serotonin flow
Seep the baritone into the feedback of a microphone
Paint it black, it’s the genesis of genomes
The brainstem chemist is kickin’ with lone ketones
Look Professor… I don’t need Cerebro
I’ll jot in katakana in tomes to hone the ethos
Now look, I’m not a Corleone Vito
I just spit in monotones on binaural torpedoes
But I could snap six infinity stones
And de-exist every foe, just by growin’ my own mythos