|Ora Tamir at www.orasart.com|
It’s the shape of my eyes, my body and soul, the color of my mind... I belong to music, and these lyrics are mine.
The beat is fast, pounding thrusts from within her chest.
The music it brings to her ears are of that melodic guitar-the unique guitar... with strings made of veins. It plays so loudly, her eardrums become numb to the sound of the beat. Don’t strum too hard, cuz ink will bleed, and when the ink bleeds, her soul excretes and stories of a young gremlin are told.
A girl so keen, she made the rhythms bleed.
Stories of a dark child, the daughter of jazz, rock and hip hop
Stories of how she made their hearts stop, their mouths drop.
Stories round the tick tock she stops the clocks and thoughts pop
Her cryptic mind is the simplest hard knock!
Cliché? I think not, for this delivery is TOO hot.
Should you question someone’s passion? I think not.
Woke up feeling fierce today, but this fire is everyday,
So sit back and listen to the truth she say.
Forget the childhood memories, dark mornings and hate tales.
The liberation? Her verbal exhale.
And the chill in her bones isn’t the effect of those cold lonely nights,
Her fear of the dark is cured by no light. Her fear is beyond the pain and anguish found in the base of her mind, the place making her eloquence a one of a kind.
Her fear of the dark isn’t how pitch black it gets, but not knowing the precise location of that vein. Cuz if the vein don’t bleed, then her soul won’t excrete, and if her soul don’t excrete then you've found her defeat.
But NOBODY is stopping P, so if you're gonna cut those lights off, first you've got to cut me!
Because it’s not just the shape of my eyes, my body and soul, the color of my life you see, I belong to music, and these lyrics are MINE!