Memorial

This day (May 26, 2003) my stomach sang songs I couldn't dance to
In memory of the one that is called Bashiru
What a hullabaloo
Your head was blown off as though a thousand flakes of dew
Damn I really miss you
But you knew cultism was a taboo
Yet you surrendered yourself to the devilish woo
And and stuck your head deep into it like a tattoo
Even when your friends were shouting boo

But now that you are gone none of this seems to matter
Even when you are closer to gehena than paradise I don't mean to flatter
If you are asked to choose one of those liquids now you would know water will be better
If you are asked to make a choice never forget to write a letter
To all the thugs left in the project, they have to run for cover
Pain is real, hell more real, they have to learn to love one another
Drop the sheilds and break their swords, damn they have to be wiser
For in these times of Lucifer only the holier will live to see the return of the Father.

Rest in wherever!