A microphone has an aura of sounds around it   When the lips make contact facts of fiction surround it   Unbounded noises founded, phrases mounted   But I get grounded.   Allow it and it will flow through the screen   Soft spoken or a scream will   stream through the means of time   That will amplify the vibe which I thrive for   Mental doors or windows open or close   Depending on which moments I chose      Guitars bass   Check your tone   Yo where's Mike B   I'm on the microphone   And Barry C.   He rocks hard like stone   The 4 elements Tokyo to Rome      Flows occur blank pages turn into rows of words   Or rows of phases in a particular matrix   The basis for this is instruments   with a microphone   Recycle tone through the cords   to clone the not shown   But heard so observe the superb yet absurd   Got no reason for concern      Guitars bass   Check your tone   Yo where's Mike B   I'm on the microphone   And Barry C.   He rocks hard like stone   The 4 elements Tokyo to Rome      Chorus:   When I'm feeling this was   I just must play   I release me through the urgency   Our consciousness is collective   This force we've made   Will always remain      Music completes a certain part of me   But there's not enough words to express me fully   We've been pushing on the cord to the outlet   Of the electrical socket   Music transforms form into thorn   That's poking the old prick looking at kiddie porn   I scorn not born locked to mock   Not the flock so us four chose to rock