Hoidy! All this wonderful insanity has inspired me lyrically, and I wrote the first decent rap I've written in ages! It still needs a title, and a hook, so if y'all have any ideas... you know... I was thinking like intheZone Man of Benares (just kidding, lame) or like Varanasi Lassi (which has a nice ring to it) or like The Burning GAT (ha just messing). Anyway. I quite like it, myself. I wish I could rap it for ya because then you'd hear how, it, like totally works to a 4-4 beat, but alas.
Here we go.
Fill a knapsack or a backpack with a load
strap that crap to your back, then hit the road
It's not a knack, in fact, it's just how to go
If you wanna know what you know you're never told
I've grown older now, but still don't
emote enough hope for the love that I hold to
the wonders of travel
It's a bunch to unravel
Even if you simply dapple you can't help but unfold
Step outside, damn, they're really here this quick?
Everybody's thinking that this tourist is this thick?
Offering me everything they've offered me before
Always wanting more, it's a poor man's war
"Hallo sir? Stop. Hello? Where you go?
Boat?"
No.
"Hashish?"
No.
"Opium?"
No.
"I can get you good price, best price"
No.
"Very nice. Want chais? Want boat?"
....No.
Let your feet hit the street. Heat. Mouth watering.
Can't compete with the feat Your mind now wandering.
Pondering the awesomeness and freaked-out awfulness
See the town
beating down
the laundering with water blessed
Tourists and locals
in the rowboats so full
The holiest river is soulful
as it glows while
Dozens of candles are floating in with a prayer
Animals, Jangles, and bells fill the air
It's dusk. The musk and the dust is being covered
in dyes, cause it's Holi, the festival of colors
Now it's time to get grassy
Better yet, nab a lassi
Apple-pineapple is what I get in Varanasi
Sippin' and chillin' watching the passing by funerals
Nothing is immutable. The holy fire's dutiful.
They're elated to be cremated here, and that's beautiful
Solemn in walking to the only place suitable
Burn away the karma as it burns away the flesh,
and it burns
and apart for an arm, there's nothing left
Life is a part of death. It alarms, and, yes,
it causes harm and stress:
what a test!
So far the art of this, I confess,
is too hard to grasp under my artifice, yet...
Set here with it happening around me
so confounding, Surrounding, astounding
I can't help but think about what is clouding
my vision
Then it's risen - SHIT
This isn't about me.
Damn.
Here we go.
Fill a knapsack or a backpack with a load
strap that crap to your back, then hit the road
It's not a knack, in fact, it's just how to go
If you wanna know what you know you're never told
I've grown older now, but still don't
emote enough hope for the love that I hold to
the wonders of travel
It's a bunch to unravel
Even if you simply dapple you can't help but unfold
Step outside, damn, they're really here this quick?
Everybody's thinking that this tourist is this thick?
Offering me everything they've offered me before
Always wanting more, it's a poor man's war
"Hallo sir? Stop. Hello? Where you go?
Boat?"
No.
"Hashish?"
No.
"Opium?"
No.
"I can get you good price, best price"
No.
"Very nice. Want chais? Want boat?"
....No.
Let your feet hit the street. Heat. Mouth watering.
Can't compete with the feat Your mind now wandering.
Pondering the awesomeness and freaked-out awfulness
See the town
beating down
the laundering with water blessed
Tourists and locals
in the rowboats so full
The holiest river is soulful
as it glows while
Dozens of candles are floating in with a prayer
Animals, Jangles, and bells fill the air
It's dusk. The musk and the dust is being covered
in dyes, cause it's Holi, the festival of colors
Now it's time to get grassy
Better yet, nab a lassi
Apple-pineapple is what I get in Varanasi
Sippin' and chillin' watching the passing by funerals
Nothing is immutable. The holy fire's dutiful.
They're elated to be cremated here, and that's beautiful
Solemn in walking to the only place suitable
Burn away the karma as it burns away the flesh,
and it burns
and apart for an arm, there's nothing left
Life is a part of death. It alarms, and, yes,
it causes harm and stress:
what a test!
So far the art of this, I confess,
is too hard to grasp under my artifice, yet...
Set here with it happening around me
so confounding, Surrounding, astounding
I can't help but think about what is clouding
my vision
Then it's risen - SHIT
This isn't about me.
Damn.
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