Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
Baba Brinkman
These riddles I write
In the middle of the night
Got me livin' alive
With a little bit of spice
I'm not a literal type
So I consider it wise
To deliver the hype
In a critical light
And minimalize
The subliminal – psyche!
If I'm winnin' the fight
And beginnin' to thrive
It's 'cause I'm not liftin' the mic
And grippin' it tight
To be given a prize
Or fixin' my sight
On a visible height
To legitimatize
My difficult plight
'Cause if I did then I might
Just limit the size
Of my physical flight
And get cynical, right?
Let the pinnacle rise
'Til the minute is ripe
I'll give it a nice
Welcome when it arrives
At the end of my life
When my differences, like
Reciprocal sides
At the edge of the knife
Together unite