#covert
I should make my way down to Bristol
To give you a good old fistful
I’d play you like a bass guitar
You know I’d follow the beat
As your knees get weak
Sneak my way into your memoir
Scribbled my actions like I was Jason and the Argonauts
Maybe you’re the elusive Golden Fleece
Forever hoping I’m not just an afterthought
‘Cause to me you’re an epic poem from Greece
The breakdown I’ll tell you what I’ve found
We’ll both go underground
And not make a ******* sound at all
We’ll be covert lovers
Forever purring blue sound bites into each other’s lugholes.
Maybe the ambiguity of what I say
Compliments how perplexed you behave
Always a puzzle for me to crack
I’ve never worked this hard for a go
But this lust is something more
I’d do anything to get you on your back
Hold you down but in a way that’s caring
You are a strong, beautiful, independent woman
Baby I really try to not be so overbearing
But without a little pressure how do you see yourself coming?
The breakdown I’ll tell you what I’ve found
We’ll both go underground
And not make a ******* sound at all
We’ll be covert lovers
Forever purring blue sound bites into each other’s lugholes
Undercover
Just press the many buttons i have on my controls
We’ll be covert lovers.
Oct 20, 2025
Oct 20, 2025 at 11:43 AM UTC
You thought you were the angel of death?
You thought you could hide your shadow forever did ya?
How clever you think you are.
Are you excited to play with demons?
Are you excited to see what I can do?
What kind of games I'm capable of?
Fallen angels know nothing of hell.
Feb 24, 2022
Feb 24, 2022 at 3:01 AM UTC
How I've gotten under their skin
They've never seen one like that
This is their nightmare
the stuff of wonder
Didn't imagine
they come
like this
one
Head and shoulders above all
impeachable and razor sharp
In no way like the rest
a true Prince, alright
drives them gaga
a nightmare
quality
the
real
deal
A thorn in their pale flesh
cheap weak we all know
liars, playing masters
He's a threat to them
they can't rest now
have to degrade
have to destroy
a prime black
not bowing
is enemy
number
one
Real Leaders do not stoop low
real leaders are always fair
real people don't steal and lie
real people are dignified
real people are intelligent
real people are benevolent
real people are not racists
real people are not cowards
real people do not feel threatened
by successful and decent black people
real people do not try discrediting others
Only racist ignorant idiots and their KKK masters
devout time and energy to pulling black people down
https://youtu.be/NSrP6Sr-OW4
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 7:15 PM UTC
There is fun in illicit
There's excitement in illicit
There's a fulfilment in covert
It is sweet
Not like honey
Or sugar
But like a drug
Like alcohol
Alcoholics will tell you
That alcohol is sweet
While they close their eyes to swallow
Drug addicts will tell you
That taking drugs is exhilarating
While they are prisoners to their addiction
It's sweet
But it destroys
It's livens up a person
But it brings unimaginable pain
It draws
Like a mosquito ******* blood
It bonds
Like a mother to her child
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 4:11 AM UTC
Too good and yet true
Too beautiful
To taste
Without falling in daze
Without following
Delirious
An aroma trail of craving
On the back of my tongue
I’m getting equal measures
Of heaven and hell
Perfectly balanced
My eyes are my traitors
Plotting to open the gates
Sending stowaway warriors
Whom I never gave orders
To slip behind walls
Of thickest black pupils
In the Trojan horse
That my eager look is
And gazes are bridges
Unwillingly
Supporting the siege
Of epiphanies
You and me
Caught in our ambush
Completely surrounded by Us
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 11:27 AM UTC
too long your lips have stared
into the body of my thoughts,
studying the patterns
and the features,
deciphering the blueprints,
my irrational being
...those petals,
their textures burning in the color,
popping out like embers, fed
every regulated breath
you are compelled
to lick away the dryness,
wipe the prints and traces,
put out the flames covertly...
but make it look casual:
you cannot be caught spying;
or the government of words
denies everything,
severing the strings,
abandoning its secret desire
behind enemy lines,
to be captured, questioned,
and tortured
by your very own
collaborationist conscience
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 5:57 AM UTC
If music is love expressed
Then I'm nothing,
But an untuned guitar,
Which gets tuned for a while,
And then the beats
Turn the keys,
Back to where they were.
The whispering music,
Goes on for a while,
Soothing my messed up mind,
Stretching my frown into a smile.
The waves of emotion,
Dance in air
And the major chord,
Dominates the despair,
Ensconced deep in our hearts,
Invisible ,
And with the songs, rare.
But then the fingers
Slip to a minor,
And the pain it lingers
All around our sober heads
The trance slowly slips away,
As the song goes off tune,
And our hands that once together swayed
Are now still and apart.
If music is love expressed
Then my song has already ended,
Even before it started,
But then that day
Isn't so far away,
Even though the journey to reach it is long,
When in the gamut of covert tunes
I'll find my perfect song.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC