When I was a boy I fell out the pocket

I fell out the pocket

I dropped down

Left instead to the beats in my head

Which called me ahead to a timeline

Where I prettied up the ambience to the end rhyme

Given a first rate view into the sounds; I drew

Wrote and only knew how I could combine

intertwine and multitudinous vines

of personalized style defined

into my lockstep, rock depth

So do I search for meaning in a land of intrigue

Do I look for a song in the silence, in the air that I breathe?

Or given the choice do I add to the mix?

Given the choice now do I voice that I can add to this rift?

Break open the barricades and give a name to this shift?

Give it a flow, give it a flare, give a decision, commit

Bring it in low, give it a lift, give it a rhythm to drift

Don't give into shiftless insistency, sometimes cadence begs immediacy

Give it a rest, give it a pause, know that some of it hurts

But give it the Barricadence, I think you'll find that it works