Just My Thoughts: A Letter to my Brother on his birthday...

Just My Thoughts: A Letter to my Brother on his birthday...: Damian Preston Wright 12/14/1977     Dear Damian, I hope this finds you well. You're on the other side now. I feel you mov...

A Letter to my Brother on his birthday...

Damian Preston Wright

12/14/1977

    Dear Damian, I hope this finds you well. You're on the other side now. I feel you moving in and out of the worlds we cannot see, having fun in your spirit form, finally free. I am well as you know. Taking things day by day. I tried hard to be by your side and I apologize for not reaching you in time to say goodbye. There's a mess back here, as you well know. I can only imagine how you and Grandma are shaking your heads in respects to the petty. Kiss her for me and tell her that I celebrate her peace. I know she guides you. I finished the music project, just like you told me to. I laid it out all on the line too. Hot Beats, hot bars, clever hooks and my truth. The family came together and represented for you in great numbers as you well know. They were there, lifting Mom and Dad towards the healing process. I must admit tho... I am cynical in respects to unity, and I will explain why. 

     We lost our young Cousin Dolphus Johnson Jr. last year, then you, and then Grandma 24 hours after. During every wake, service or gathering that followed, my ears heard whispers of the same phrase and sentiment repeated by almost everyone. 

"We shouldn't wait for someone to die to get together" 

or 

"Don't wait until I'm gone to give me flowers"

or 

"We need to come together and celebrate life as well" 

etc... etc...

So in my eyes... on the heels of this talk, I release an album in your memory. This is the album you told me to make. This is the album I would have not made unless you said, what you said. This is a body of work that celebrates life. So I am having a difficult time with the family that knows this work is quality (as well as my reputation for putting out quality) in your name and not supporting it. It is not like the $5 or $10 dollar purchase is going to put me in a Bentley. Every member of our family could buy 10 copies and that wouldn't happen. It's not about me... It's about principle. 

In my eyes, if you can speak on unity at a funeral, then you should support something positive in the name of that unity. Period end. 

Moving on...

Jasper... the punk bitch that shot you got denied bond yesterday. His charge got upgraded from "Malicious Wounding" to "Murder" although I'm not sure which degree. The attorney said his swagger was arrogant and cocky. I won't be able to look at him and not flip, but you know that. I will celebrate his sentencing with a bottle of something smooth that doesn't burn as it goes down... Mom and Dad are strong, however I must admit, I have never seen them so shaken. I go home now more than ever. And I am on a new mission. Not to "save" the family. But to connect with the members that walk with me in spirit. Your son makes me proud. We are closer than ever as I know you've seen. I see you and me behind his eyes. In the soul he carries are the dreams of the closeness I wanted between you and I. That dream was not in vain, because it has manifested in him.

Have fun up there Bra... I will see you again when it's my turn to rest. 

L. 

Just My Thoughts: The Illusion of Utopia and The Lies of Like.

Just My Thoughts: The Illusion of Utopia and The Lies of Like.: The Illusion of Utopia and The Lies of Like. I don't like her and she doesn't like them/ They don't like us and she ca...

The Illusion of Utopia and The Lies of Like.

The Illusion of Utopia and The Lies of Like.

I don't like her and she doesn't like them/

They don't like us and she can't stand him/

He doesn't like me and I'm not trying to be friends/

Because none of that matters when the day light ends/

Is the enemy of my enemy really my friend?/

Are we all just playing a grown-up game of pretend?/

Where the flesh of my flesh tries to rip away my skin/

Where folks look tough on the outside/ but are cowards within?/


News Flash!!! 

There's no family/ No J-O-B/

No pulpit/ school/ or agency/

No get money click/ no Blood or Crip/

No Sunshine Pussy/ or Mandingo Dick/

No Pastor/ No Actor/ No Exotic Dancer/

No Poet/ No Rapper that has the game mastered/

No Choir/ Messiah/ or Athlete on fire/

That's respected by all/ adored and admired/

The Illusion of Utopia and The Lies of Like.

The Devil told you to reach and when you did he said SIKE!/

He dangled power, status, prestige and position/

Promises of "Easy Living" for the lazy who'd listen/

The same ones who scream "Grind Time" and "Can't Stop The Hustle"/

Are the same who complain about every day struggles/

Ownership, leadership, humility and compassion/

Sweat and hard work are no longer in fashion/

Players but no coaches/

Hard Rocks but no boulders/

Bosses without workers/

Soldiers who don't salute soldiers/


The Illusion of Utopia and the Lies of Like/


News Flash!!!


Poems do not have to rhyme and some spoken words are better without mics/


A thousand nations/

can send a thousand ships/

that each carrying a thousand men/

with each man carrying hate in his heart/

Off to war on the surface of a peaceful Sea/

With orders to kill their enemies when the signal is given/

And those thousand ships/

each carrying a thousand men/

with each man carrying hate in his heart/

will occupy the surface of that peaceful Sea/

starring at their enemies/

Waiting for that signal that gives them permission/

And there they sit...

On the same body of water/

Looking at each other/

Hating one another/

Peacefully waiting for the orders to kill/

Peacefully waiting for the orders to kill/


My point is that the water of the sea is peacful regardless of the discontent between people that share the same space/
We don't have to "like" one another to co-exist/

The world has become less about who gets the job done and more about who doesn't like who/

It is our differences that make us versatile/

The ability to accept, challenge and debate those differences is the path to greatness/ 

The only utopia I know of is not of this Earth/

But we can at least be great while we're here/

Let me be great ~

GB.

Just My Thoughts: "The Police" Public Service Announcement.

Just My Thoughts: "The Police" Public Service Announcement.: "The Police" Public Service Announcement. By The Brodomatics.

Just My Thoughts: In the Lab With Graffiti Bleu at The Blue Room Stu...

Just My Thoughts: In the Lab With Graffiti Bleu at The Blue Room Stu...: In the Lab  With Graffiti Bleu at The Blue Room Studios.

"The Police" Public Service Announcement.

"The Police" Public Service Announcement.

By The Brodomatics.

In the Lab With Graffiti Bleu at The Blue Room Studios.

In the Lab 

With Graffiti Bleu at The Blue Room Studios.

Just My Thoughts: D E A T H Becomes Him. A Halloween Tale. (Or Is It...

Just My Thoughts: D E A T H Becomes Him. A Halloween Tale. (Or Is It...: Narrated By Graffiti Bleu and Produced by The Brodomatics. available on Sound Cloud. https://soundcloud.com/graffiti-ble...

D E A T H Becomes Him. A Halloween Tale. (Or Is It?) #Audio

Narrated By Graffiti Bleu and Produced by The Brodomatics.

available on Sound Cloud.

https://soundcloud.com/graffiti-bleu/death-becomes-him-a-halloween

Disclaimer: A set of quality headphones, a glass of wine and a cuddle buddy are highly recommended before you listen to this story...

Enjoy.

Mysterious Girl (Verse 2)

Mysterious Girl Verse 2.

Now We're together and our situation is evolving/

Into a love affair that's happy without any problems/

And that's the problem/ cause I'm used to watching love dissolving/

From the issues of the petty steadily revolving/

Instead we're like Bonnie and Clyde thuggin and robbing/

The universe for precious time so we're never starving/

Or chasing each other/ funny cause you can catch us jogging/

The cardio has heart and other passion muscles throbbing/

Solving/ the riddle of all riddles, which asks if one woman can be a man's everything/

Carving/ our initials at the jeweler on the inside of a platinum 3 karat diamond ring/

My hommies think I'm speeding and they're probably right/

But they're all single so I don't heed their advice/

Lobster, shrimp, candle lights and champagne/

Penthouse suites/ complete my campaign/

Of seduction to the girl that's mysterious/

I pop the question and she stares at me curious/

I'm usually patient watching the moves of my private dancer/

But this time I'm stressing waiting for the answer/

#Brodomatics all day baby... 

For verse 1. Click Below...

Mysterious Girl Verse 1.

The Many Masks of the Fearful.

     A smile's attack on a failed attempt at vengeance. A soft kiss goodbye to an undeserving lover. A prayer said for an enemy, thanking them for making you stronger. These instances for me have proven that it is best to attack ugliness with beauty. 

(Yes beauty) Beauty can be a powerful weapon. It is the only way to effectively win against such relentless energy. Some say fight fire with fire, or in this case, ugly with ugly. That may be effective, but you become what you hate by doing so. Even if you win you lose, because your core self was changed. The goal of evil is not to win the battle of your flesh. The goal of evil is to win the war for your soul. For evil to succeed in that task, it must turn you into what you hate. Taking all that is natural or Godly from your spirit and turning into something synthetic, or man made. 

Now then...

The Devil has his work cut out for him. It's not easy to change someone's core, even for someone who stays as busy as he does. So he often uses us to do his work for him. "Vanity is my favorite sin" said Al Pacino in "The Devil's Advocate" and though that quote may not be in the scriptures verbatim; the scriptures do say Vanity is like "Grasping For The Wind" This is probably why he likes it so much. Why would one grasp for the air, when their lungs inhale all the body could ever need? Why would one grasp for air when it is so hard to do with bare hands? (Try it)  Fear. Believing the lie that there is not enough air to go around. Or believing that somehow you deserve more air than the next person. Fearing that "they" are breathing air that is rightfully yours.

We are currently witnessing the dawn of a new culture of fear. Seems like we're scared of everything and the media exploits that fear. (another story for another day) In my opinion we're as scared as we've ever been. Follow... Many want to be recognized as special; living life fearfully that they may not be special at all. Gassed up from young ages to be rock stars, movie actors, princesses, presidents, highly paid athletes, share holders and tycoons. Growing ever disappointing when we find out were not. As if a humble fulfilling life is somehow a bad thing. Ironically, knowing deep down to their core that there's only one them, and the "special" in them is in that fact alone. Interestingly enough, fearful folks have found clever ways to hide or "Mask" their fears. Turning any attempt to expose their fears into an attack on the seekers of truth. For example: Questions on the importance of monetary wealth or the moral compass of those who are well off are dismissed as "Haters" Clever lies and jingles are also made to mask this fear, such as: "If it don't make dollars it don't make sense" or my personal favorite "People that say money isn't everything don't have any" We also have a culture and society that enables the fearful and also protects them. For example: Many jobs that have a "Human Resource" Department have policies where you can complain about someone anonymously. So the accused may never speak to the accuser face to face. This leaves the accuser with zero accountability and the accused walking on egg shells. As if a face to face meeting would not get to the truth faster and more effectively. So the "mask" is corporate in this case. The masks don't stop there though. we have social media and state of the art technology. Folks are saying things they would never say in public behind the safety of the keyboard. The masks here are fraudulent personas, clever avatars and alter egos. Cats will even text you threats that they wouldn't say to your face.

So where does this leave us. What consequences do we stand to have by hiding who we are? What repercussions come with believing we are something that we're not. This leaves us unable to handle the truth. When we find out that we are not as special as we thought we were, we've got problems. When we find out that we're going to have to put the work in like everyone else, we've got problems. The ego is shattered. The ego is inconsolable. The ego sees the truth as ugly. The ego wants to fight ugly with ugly. In doing so, the soul is lost. It has us fighting each other for crumbs, while kissing the ass of the folks who've dropped those crumbs on the floor to watch us battle. It has people doing whatever it takes to get noticed in the public eye. It has these young boys killing over nothing.

     I write this in the face of a family tragedy. My dear brother was shot in his head, late Friday night and is holding on to his life in an intensive care unit as I organize these words. I too feel like fighting fire with fire. I too feel seduced by the many masks of ugliness. I chose art instead, for this is my testimony and thus my truth. I am about to hop on a plane to be by his side and pray for his recovery while I lay my hands on him. I say all of this to say we need a change folks. That change will only come when we stop living behind cowardly masks that cast fearful shadows over our faces...

GB.... 

Kat's Cafe... What I won't miss...

I won't miss Poets who pose as musicians but really can't play. (carrying giant guitars on their back and the whole 9)

I won't miss Poet's telling me "Just get the info from my Facebook" when I ask them for a press kit.

I won't miss Poet's hitting my inbox with "call me ASAP" instead of just dialing my number.

I won't miss arguing with cheap patrons over a 5 dollar cover charge.

I won't miss phony promoters trying to fill stadiums without consistently filling smaller venues.

I won't miss the opinions of those who are unwilling to do anything else besides telling me how to run things. (I love feedback. Just not from the lazy)

For Example: 

Them: "Hey Bleu, perhaps we should do such and such?" 

Me: Cool... would you mind finding out more info about such and such and then tell me what such and such is going to cost me?

Them: "Oh.... I wasn't planning to do all that" 

I won't miss being a promoter.

Now then... With that out of the way... I digress.

     Kat's Cafe has provided me and my team with a tremendous opportunity to express ourselves at the coziest spot in all of Atlanta. There are few things I love more than the stage. There are few things I love more than giving my outlets to my fellow creative brothers and sisters. So regardless of the rant about "What I won't miss" above. The reasons for me "stepping down" from, or giving up "creative control" of, the "First Wednesday" poetry series are not malicious ones. 

     Creatively I am just somewhere else now. I am overwhelmingly inspired to finish the screenplay version of the Poet's Pursuit of Pleasure series. I have done quite a few scenes thus far... and let me tell you. It's like writing a college thesis on steroids. (In reference to the amount of focus you need to finish) Kat is a dear friend, a savvy business woman and easy on the eyes. 

#FINE 

I am sure that "First Wednesday" will continue poetically in Atlanta. It just will be without my creative input, and without business dealings going through gbleu.com

On that note, it is time to get to work. I have one last feature at Kat's on the first Wednesday of October; and these poems aren't going to write themselves. I will leave with a salute to all of the poets, authors and musicians that have featured or hosted for us during this series... 

Thank you.

Evelyn T. Keener

Abyss

Byron Walter

Kelvin Rowe

Karee

Journee Poetess

Red Storm

Shawn Vokals

Tina ATL

Torion Kent

Adán Bean

GB... out.

Just My Thoughts: Heavy...

Just My Thoughts: Heavy...: First off this ain't no "woe is me" tale of being cold and hungry/ I grew up comfortably/ as a child of the 70's/ Kni...

Heavy...

First off this ain't no "woe is me" tale of me being cold and hungry/

I grew up comfortably/ as a child of the 70's/

Knick's jacket on my back/ I think I was 4/ 
My earliest memory/

Of Hip-Hop is when local DJ's were asking "Who was in the place to be?"

me.../

And the place to be/ for me/ and my family/
was mad narrowly/ and apparently/ systematically designed for blacks to live tragically/

A bum on the corner's yelling "Welcome to the ghettoooooooooooo!/

Far Rockaway Queens where young boys flash metaaaaaaaaaaal/

My folks would look calm but their hearts were unsettleeeeeeeeeed/

And why wouldn't they be/

Ronald Reagan's on the T.V./

Giving orders to the P.D./

To lock-up all niggaz they see/

You will have to excuse me/

That right there didn't happen till the 80's/

Right along with crack babies/

Drug dealers in Mercedes/ and other shit to make you crazy/

*Sometimes when I'm inspired to write/

I want to give a window into my life/

But there's other times where I feel like Naaaaaaaaaaaaahhh... y'all ain't really ready/

Other times I want to grab the mic/

And let you know where I learned how to fight/

And let y'all know why I live life light/

Where I come from is so mufuckin HEAVY/*

Gamblers/ Scramblers/ Pimps/ Pushers/ and Dope Fiends/

Hustle and Busselers/ addicted to vending machines/

Stick-Up Kids/ Cats home from jail bids/

Street poets telling it just how it is/

Fake Messiahs/ High niggaz that look tired/

Hard workers that got fired/ Because of bold face liars/

We moved to Hollis like the projects were on fire/

Homeless man was yelling "Welcome back to the ghettooooooooooo/

Jamaica Ave. Where Crack is cooked inside Kettleeeeeeeeeeees/

Made by Pyrex and they also pack metaaaaaaaaaaaaal/

And why wouldn't they pack/

There's so many people dying/

There's so many Mothers crying/

There's so many people trying/

Moved to South-side Queens in the 90's/

Guess what/ it was just as grimey/

My past doesn't haunt me/ it reminds me/

That surviving is a blessing/ even though I am confessing/ That I've had the hardest lessons/

*Sometimes when I'm inspired to write/

I want to give a window into my life/

But there's other times where I feel like Naaaaaaaaaaaaahhh.. y'all ain't really ready/

Other times I want to grab the mic/

And let you know where I learned how to fight/

And let y'all know why I live life light/

Where I come from is so mufuckin HEAVY/*

GB

Just My Thoughts: "Oh, it's you..." A special guest blog by "Black B...

Just My Thoughts: "Oh, it's you..." A special guest blog by "Black B...: Emotions denied after so many years/ Now comes back to life and leaves me with fear/ Fear of the power and the passion wi...

"Oh, it's you..." A special guest blog by "Black Butterfly"

Emotions denied after so many years/

Now comes back to life and leaves me with fear/

Fear of the power and the passion within/

Fear of my inability to contain them/

Who is this passion that awakens in me?/

A voice, emotions and beautiful memories/

Oh, it's you... I remember, it's you/

So long has my pen been silent/

Leaving blank pieces of paper that I hide behind/

No words written/

No thoughts spoken/

Who is this person that adds fire to my small flame?/

By sharing emotions or saying my name/

Oh, it's you... I remember, it's you/

Even through silence my love remained/

Just waiting for a time for it to be unrestrained/

The silence is over, there's no need to fear/

My voice shouts out as our hearts draw near/

Who is this passion, I've loved from the start?/

The one who unknowingly opened my heart/

Oh, it's you... I remember, it's you/ 

Black Butterfly.

Footnote: I have been asked time and time again about the courage it takes to put yourself out there in verse. It takes guts, balls and a dash of insanity. The battle to express yourself outwardly, ironically is fought internally. So I view this poem as a victory. It was sent to me by a poet who has no desire to have her own blog, book or bookings for shows. It was sent to me anonymously asking me to share. How could I not do exactly that in the face of such bravery?

GB.

Just My Thoughts: "Show" Business.

Just My Thoughts: "Show" Business.:      "The cream rises to the top"       Many have heard this phrase and agree with its content without any debate...

"Show" Business.

     "The cream rises to the top" 

     Many have heard this phrase and agree with its content without any debate or question. If you give this phrase a quick glance or this sentence a quick read, there's really not much to debate at all. It's hard to debate a cold, hard fact. 

(although man has clever ways of doing so) 

Let the truth be told however "cream" (in reference to standing milk) actually does rise to the top. The phrase itself often pertains to those with exceptional talents or gifts that make them stand out from the crowd. Yet still, even in its metaphorical state, there's not much to debate here either. The best do stand out from the crowd like a very large forehead opposite a receding hairline. So since there is no debate here as well, I will not do so. The cool thing is that my job as a writer is not necessarily to debate or argue. My job as an artist is to provoke thought. My job as an artist is to point out the details that may be missed by an untrained eye. My job as an artist is to make sense out of nonsense. That being said, I believe that looking at only one side, one element or dynamic of anything to be "nonsensical" So yes, the cream rises to the top; but only with the support of the fluid it floats on. Yes the exceptional stand out from the ordinary. But if everyone where exceptional, the exceptional would become ordinary. My point is this; you cannot have one without the other. The boldness of a stripe depends on its contrast with colors it lays beside. Can you see a white stripe on white paper? Not very well at least. The team or support is critical to any individual in the same circle. That being said, I want to underscore this type of relationship of words with a pair I deal with a lot.

     The "Show" and "Business" of "Show Business" share this exact same relationship. You cannot have one without the other. Just like the beginning phrase above, many look at this term with a quick glance and an untrained eye. Glamour has many artists and entrepreneurs alike putting on more "show" than "business" I see too many promoters, musicians, writers and performers all looking the part for the show and not handling the business on a sustainable, lucrative and respectable level. Simply giving yourself a title doesn't make you that which you call yourself. The tongue does have power, but not in that way. Dressing the part doesn't do it alone either. I have a laundry list of examples that proves my point.

• Rappers that can't freestyle.
• Figure heads that are not focused.
• Promoters that talk about themselves more than the artists they represent.
• Cats that politic with you all night, exchange numbers with you and won't return your phone call.
• Cats that say they represent the same team but they never communicate with each other.
• Writers that are too shy to read a paragraph aloud to a trusted friend.
• DJ s that don't own turntables.
• Poets that don't own mics.
• Musicians that carry instruments they can't play.

     I can go on... but you understand, I'm sure. Someone once asked me "How I memorized so much?" Pertaining to my poems, lines in a book I wrote or a clever line in a great movie I wish I wrote. "Practice" I replied. I write, I read what I wrote, I rewrite and then read again. I practice poems in the mirror. I watch movies to study camera angles and study great exchanges in dialogue between two strong characters. I have also been asked; "When do you sleep?" My reply was "When I can" I have a scheduled that I write down, a calendar to keep it in order and a hungry group of folks around me to see that things get done. In short; I'm about my business long before the curtains are pulled to the sides to reveal the show. I maybe confident to the point where some ask if I'm cocky. But my humility does its best to keep the Glamour in check. I have seen glamour get in the way of many great people and I do not want to be one of them.

• Glamour makes you feel like no one can tell you anything.
• Glamour prevents you from being a student of the new ways of the game you play.
• Glamour makes you feel like you've made it, when you're not even close.
• Glamour makes you feel like your success is imminent, knowing deep down that nothing in this life is guaranteed.
• Glamour makes you lose focus due to a warped perception of where you're actually looking at.
• Glamour makes you feel you can do it all by yourself without help. Even though every success can be linked to an extraordinary team that pushed them.

In closing I would like you to ask yourself a few questions from time to time on your way to the the top.

• Am I about my business or am I about the show?
• How about those in your circle?
• What effort do you think it will take for you to break through?
• Do you honor your word?
• Since the cream rises to the top; do you see any cream when you look at your team?

Until next time kids...  

GB

Just My Thoughts: DJ Kool, EU the Band, DJ Scorpio, Stinky Dink & Gr...

Just My Thoughts: DJ Kool, EU the Band, DJ Scorpio, Stinky Dink & Gr...: 1st Annual Corvette Show Maryland

DJ Kool, EU the Band, DJ Scorpio, Stinky Dink & Graffiti Bleu.

1st Annual Corvette Show Maryland

Just My Thoughts: What Do You See..?

Just My Thoughts: What Do You See..?: What do you see? Do you see the man/ Do you see the myth/ Do you see the pain on the face of a man trying real hard in this stru...

Just My Thoughts: Mysterious Girl...

Just My Thoughts: Mysterious Girl...: Mysterious Girl/ Just as fine as she can be/ And she's headed right for me/ Curious Girl/ I wonder why you chose m...

Just My Thoughts: The Storyteller... (Spanish Princess)

Just My Thoughts: The Storyteller... (Spanish Princess): Let's Have Some Fun ... I was in bed with a Spanish Princess/ Rolling a blunt while she burned some incense/ Fire to a m...

Just My Thoughts: 5 Facts about the Creative Process... (GTV)

Just My Thoughts: 5 Facts about the Creative Process... (GTV): Graffiti Bleu...

5 Facts about the Creative Process... (GTV)

Graffiti Bleu...

The Storyteller... (Spanish Princess)

Let's Have Some Fun...

https://soundcloud.com/graffiti-bleu/spanish-princess-the

Listen to the track by clicking the link above and follow along with the words below...

I was in bed with a Spanish Princess/

Rolling a blunt while she burned some incense/

Fire to a match now the weed was sparking/

She exhales smoke and we gets to talking/

About a poem that I said back at the party/

She said she felt the spirit enter her body/

Now she wants to hear another poem in private/

For showing off that is exactly what I get/

I say that because the King don't like me/

This King is the Princesses Daddy/

And once he discovers that I'm not at the party/

I really think the King is going to hurt somebody/

I have to handle business quickly/

Only problem is the Princess won't let me/

Before I can touch her naked glory/

She says; "Pappi Tell Me a Story!"


The Storyteller/


Now This Princess got game like a motherfucker/

Gangster Chick, she ain't no sucker/

Luckily I find stories easy to manage/

So I turned the situation to my advantage/

I said: "Once upon a time in the near future/

I will give you love that will perfectly suit ya/

Be the muscle for your Queendom/

Who is guided by your wisdom/

Express yourself as a woman/

And we'll strengthen our connection"/  

"Negro Please!" she said/

No quick... get under the bed/

I hit the floor like Manny Pacquiao/

Or a man who fought Iron Mike in his day/

The King broke the fucking door down/

And from under the bed I could hear him say/


Where is..? The Storyteller//


"All hail the King" said the Princess/

"So glad that you could show interest/

When I flirt with your enemies/

Seems to be the only time you ever come around me"?

Damn... She didn't try to fake it/

Talking shit to her pops half naked/

The King flips the bed/

And the bed goes flying/

And the Princess too/

The King grabs my head/

And he pulls me up till I'm standing on my own two/

He's huffing and puffing being overly rough and/

Discussing something about whipping my fucking ass/

I thought he was bluffing/ till I couldn't hear nothing/

With him touching/ clutching and crushing/ me with his hands/

The old King is strong no doubt/

I can feel myself start to fade out/

The King's right hand man decided to speak/

And I could feel the King's grip get a little weak/

He said "The Story Teller could better serve us/

By telling the story of this/

Making all the others nervous/

The Storyteller///