[Dan Bull]
This beat could sent me to a higher place
So be aware that I require space
When you see me staring at the fireplace
I'm rarely leaving cyberspace (nah)
Exept tonight, the quitet flames
Annihilate, each and every final trace of it
I know a place where the primate wild stay
Reflect and contemplate light with a childs face (wow)

Introspective meditation
Then go fetch my medication
Just for recreation
And prepare my brain
For an endless mental state
Of intense hallucination

Incadencent immalation
Is the best illumination

Oh wait shit
I can't even remember what im saying man
My memory's off in space
When im fending off the shakes

The logs hiss, pop and crackle |with splenda|
The |graft| passes through the ashes and embers
Sends up flashes and flares
Of the past, i remember
Flashbacks to decend, enough to last through december

Events were a messed up, and a cracked in the |tempa|
When i pulled myself together, and went back to the center
Flights of passion where i should of had to be tender
But i was just too stubborn of a twat to surrender

Perhaps i should send my ego back to the vendor
Because the packaging was damaged in transit and bent
Dan Bull and Beit Nun, |pasture| together
Crafting it better
With raps that are tethered
Like the srings on a Les Paul
Gibson, Stratocaster and Fender
I need a slash, can you rap for me Beit
And ill be bac in a sec

[Beit Nun]

(yeah mate)

Forced to think
Martel warming in the porcalin
Cooked that i poured it in
The filcker it draws me in
The silluette of the flames
|figuring pirrouettes|

I watch a fire but never a television set
Simple pleasures tonight
I wish that i could live forever

Im spitting feathers
Barrels of homebrew
Sitting the cellubus
Winter becons

No desire to go to bed
Still the open fire is slowly fed

Another brandy night
Writing by the candle light
Sat beside the mantle
Kindling crackles like vynyl

The smoke dances in a spiral as it rises
Danger in every |guise|
Untuil its rare that we recognise it, bliss

The jazzy tones
Of the saxephone
On the gramaphone
Stand alone
In a class of their own
Happy at home
Is where I hang my hat
Even if these walls could talk
They'd never answer back
[outro - samples cut up]