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lyrics

eyelids split, light sifts through broken lashes
stopping a distant vision that comes in ugly flashes
he's asking himself if waking was ever this dreamlike
because he can feel his face against the tile but the haze just doesn't seem right
like a man who wakes on a tightrope made of "fake"
and a plummet to left or right is the difference of sleep and awake
so there he lays in wonder at the sight of a cruel subtraction
with nothing but a phantasm and no tool of abstraction
he would not have argued if a man dipped a hammer in ambien
and helped him escape to slumber from this strange and empty land he's in
his relative views landed him in satire
and this fake traveller flew by white light and black fire
match mire, muck and fog with his mind spirit and heart
with enough torque in the sun dial, metamorphosis starts
butterfly stretches new wings made with the feeling
of floating too slow to reach for spoils in the ceiling

(who am i? where did i come from?)

if his lips tasted sweetness, it was an unknown bliss
and if his bones rested freely it was on stone-carved kiss
if it was get up in walk it was travel into unknown
if light it was "blue lake 40" color to match the skin tone
this stone temple stood starting line to his path
that he travelled- untrodden with his cataracts cracked
re-animated optic, idols lifted up and dropped it
you had a dark memory found, he can guarantee he lost it

credits

from The Master Thief Who Stole Your Lucid Dreams (A Retrospective Anthology Of My Early Sample​-​Based Creative Work), released September 17, 2016
sampled from toshiko akiyoshi
Lyrics & Vocals By Agent Smith

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Wings Of An Angel image

Wings Of An Angel Israel

My own identity feels like a construct, a collection of roles and personas worn like so many masks. Who am I, really?

Perhaps in the end, we are all just characters in someone else's novel, puppets dancing on strings we cannot see. ... more

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