Hip hop was the intention but we ended up with this
A change in perspective solves the puzzle of Phil Fish
With three unheard albums I'm heading back to the well
A sound philosophy is a loud invisibility spell
My absence from social media is purification for the soul
But my mind is still sick so the end product is null
These words lounge around like sandpaper on my tongue
Already unsteady on ladder ascend one more rung
Strain this milk with dirty cotton and amplify my cheese
Another rusty wheeze surely not a pulmonary disease
The number twenty five chuckles at my reflection
I'd never collect money from those under my protection
Their parents are a whole other bag of snack packets
I still carry the albatross through a simplified tax bracket