I’m the cracks in the ice geist The thief in the night light The reason you can’t even go to sleep When you’re hype Skype The read it and write sleight Of hand with that left heist The best and brightest western spittin’-Spetnaz platoon type The jungle, it’s coming Oh, they want you there runnin’ That whole backwards crazy cooky communally-driven country, That refuses to bow, To the lion’s lie crown, Because the tigress is the Ganga And she’s watered this ground, With cheetah archer princes blue Through pacifistic aestheticians Who still burn to the moon, To feel her Saraswati peace of mind Evoke the monsoon