The War of Art (feat. Syndrome)

Flying in another year
Heart never holding fear
Obviously there's no despair
Probably in open air
Opened up it's time to shop
Master keys open locks
37 spins, here we go again
Thank you god

Grateful for another shot
Cause some didn't get to see today
In the stands they talk a lot
But never seen the field of play
Pulled me out my comfort zone
Got drafted in the war of art
Should the Gods take me home
Hope its known I gave my all
Founded in the dark
Saw the light and connected to it
Been the greatest thrice
Fourth fight this the entrance music
Water got a tempo to it
Flowing through a fountain pen
Put the C's into a quartz
So use the four to count me in
Know they tried to count me out
But they don't know my driving force
Stayed the course, when it rains it pours
I embrace the storms
Painting poems, himalayan holmes
Holding mountain pose
Cases closed, watched his body rot, then it decomposed
Speak in codes, fluent in the language of the higher realms
Captain at the helm, riding swells, only tides will tell
That the wave forms would be formed in compositions
Had to put this shit on tidal
Cause its highest definition, wait
On the yacht were fixing plates
Tiger shrimp and lobster tails
Covid had a saving grace
Finally got the art to sail
Tried to hit me with the jab
I hit them with the duck and weave
Said we couldn't leave
I heard that when we were overseas



Credits
Writer(s): James Tennapel, Piotr Bolinski
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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