from the forthcoming Father Focus Confucius album
(Sitting by a Campfire)
My soul soars up smoke steams from the ash
I'm just a fallin angel leaning on the tokes from the hash
I'm trying to change the inner demon taking hold of my cache
Breaking molds with every road I chose to further my path
I'm on a murder bout to purge the route I chose in the past
So put the word of mouth to urge your scouts to fall to the back
I'm bout to burn a route to turn devout the persons who asked
And reverse the doubt you heard come out from workers who slack
They call my hermit while I'm burning down the earth to its cracks
and fertilize and verbalize with words they worship on wax
Turn a burning stick to nourishment with courage and craft
Watch the word create encouragement when heard in a track
All that's left when life is urged to quit is death but what is that
Just the fuel for sparking birth again when nothings left in tact
As the fire burns a pyre turns the dirt into grass
Into higher births like fire birds that rise from the ash