Photon Flurry

I slink into the tomb like late 70s Tom Waits
Suit too small I'm long toothed in these Dog Days
Top hat low brow lip with a hunchback
Pimp cane a thin chain a not-so-bad nomad

I can turn any liquid to delicious citrus IPA
Save the Gatorade hops and yeast for latter days
Afternoons are filled with purple haze and Madden games
Back when the rabbit hole was solo projects from Wu-Tang
I'll be here stoned or sober dance party to the break of noon

Spinning up beat old school break beat hip-hop tunes
Or perhaps a splash or two of home brew
And drafting up tactful tracks and slack-ass grooves
In the time of War Boys I was a half-daft android
Made of alloy a decoy astronaut space cowboy
On a midnight flight deployed to destroy asteroids
Like some ploy from Tolstoy, set out than a black void

I smudge sage in the ethers with many a non-believer
Wield a saber of light to fight off all this wicked evil
With the Wookiee in the wings a princess at my back
and her sassy ass will blast you dude oh yeah it's trap
Synth based doppler shit sounding like a laser beam
Droid doppelgänger spying for Senator Palpatine
Testing Skywalker like level Midichlorians
Great Scott Doc now back to the DeLorean DeLorean DeLorean

Real magic smoke no need for any fog machine
Jiggle like a jumping bean in an earthquake on a trampoline
Walk on water I'm calmer than Walter
Got my dog eared copy of Twain's Prince and the Pauper

I spit bars that flow hot like pop-tarts
Keep kind Kush in glass ball jars like frog parts
Vast at craft arts and crystal-geoed quartz hearts
Spars at the start then refined just like fine art

Getting better with the weather man I gab with a gift
Adrift with snow banks with a spliff on my lip
Whilst a Schlitz in my mitten man I went down with the skiff
Amidst the piss I crack some ribs and twist in my wrist

We can go mad down a fury road Charlize and Immortan Joe
On your left Tina Turner star tonight in the Thunderdome
We travel silent at night using stars as our maps
Whispering with the west wind steady sniffing for traps

I'm just thick smoke man I disappear when the wind blows
I'm Brandon Lee from the Crow I see what you do and nowhere you go
I'm an insomniac man I can't get any sleep
Except on occasion I crash deep into a feverish dream in a trash heap

Wake up in sweaty sheets shit it was all just a bad dream
Lost sight of the plot forgot the last Memento timepiece
I feel like Leonard Scramble I half remember these Polaroids
Pencil notes on the plaster perhaps I'm just paranoid