(Gift of Apollo)
I'm a rooftop apostle
A parking garage priest
I'm a new age prophet
I'm a god of the streets
And there's some heat behind
My teeth that I gotta release
So play the beat
Cuz I don't play with what I eat
It's Saturday night
And I'm walking
I cease talking
Listen to the peace
To find all my pieces
Before I reach my coffin
As often as I can
I stand off in the distance
Tuned into existence
Just me and my footprints. It's
A dark night and all the
Good citizens are sitting in
Getting busy, or Face-booking-
Making sure they're fitting in
So the streets are pretty thin
As I walk into the darkness
When all you've known is blackness
You can't't forget what a spark is
And then my target rises up
Like the lights that mark it
Six stories of brick so someone
With a car can park it
Architecturally, I guess
This option isn't truly optimal
But I don't have a vision
For style, my mission's optical
I see the top from the base, and
I feel like I'm in a basin
So much space and
I can't wait to embrace it
There's an elevator, but
I'm on my way to the steps
Who knew getting to heaven was supposed
To leave a soul out of breath?
I could swear I'm flying as
I'm climbing to the roof
Like most who seek divinity
I'm in it for the truth
And so I practice my religion
As I pa** through that door
Open outwards into nothing
But the bricks of the floor
Instant amazement, heart's pace
Crazy as I stand on the pavement
Witness to this ancient wavelength
I gaze at the blazing stations breaking the
Great blanket with light older than
Most of the white nations
I see the light of creation
No more is the world white, black
Or Asian
No more hate, and
We are all the human race, and
Though this is written in pages
It was always written out in space
Where no one can erase it
By the grace of fate, we're forced to face it
A couple hours slowly pa**, and
I'm still basking
Still tapping into the universal
Truth that continues blasting
Faster than I can grasp it
My form hewn from blackness
I'm steeping in the heat from the
Cosmological ashes. Each
Glance past the moon
Only shows what the past is
In my head, I'm thinking what the pastor
Said could never match this
I can't lie
So I guess it's time to pitch my mattress
How could it be; that to see
You have to be in pitch blackness?
Madness. Yet this pen
And pad record fact
If I'm going overboard
It's cuz the board I'm going over cracked
My brain zapped by a billion
Solar maximums
I begin the relaxed walk back
But the world's platinum
Cuz every atom my eyes
Have in em
Is what happens when
Stars cannibalize
Their own flesh
And so I'm laughing when
I'm skipping down the steps
To think that I had stress. Yes
But I've been blessed, and
That's yesterdays bad mess
Suddenly, my life is utterly effortless
I've tasted the fresh breath of the heavens
And I'm higher than mount Everest
I'm alive like the
Severed head of a hydra
Soul multiplied by the
Piece of coal inside of
Me that turned diamond
The world is my bible
I'm baptized by Simon
Every rhyme I write is
Daniel among lions
Stars are my Zion
The low are made high and
I'm I am made into a deity
Impossible. Yet my minds rocket
Can't stop revealing these
Incredible truths
I've seen how heaven moves
And seven times out of seven
I bet you I'll never lose
Sight. Cuz night is my tether
To whatever else is
Readily redefining
My theory of what self is
And what I've learned
Is I'm omnipotently helpless
I'm a speck reflective of what
The whole cosmic web is
If they can define a miracle as
Water to wine, then I can take
Existence and insist that it's divine