THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

[dead man]

open mice are the tissue. muscle fibers, the ghost
swam to pretty islands just to die at the coast
frozen eyes as the ocean blue like sirens and smoke
piece of pie and a roast. thanks for buying me hope
i've seen the root of harmony inside of a scope
aimed it at my minister. then silenced the pope
cyanide and tire irons. vitamins, dope
shook my friend that overdosed, he finally awoke
just to curl up and fade away beside me, so close
to that fireplace that i used to make my coffee and toast
my shoes are made by children that a chinaman owns
so i wear them hoping everyone will step on my toes