-- so this is rapp'd as a solid lead on
getting us through what wounded reason calls the burden of proof --
writeous -- it's my first Meti's rap song -- the idea was to rap some
past where the Nun's beat us with their pointers in disgust and the
Math teacher held us on the board by the throat 'til we got the
numbers drill 'd down in to spit out agin -- the piece is a reflection
of the piece called the burden of proof after all --
so sung to a Rap beat -- a metis' on read'in an write'in an rithymtak'in
we got 'em smashed
in our face 'til my musical soul
hid in some uddar place --
runnin from chair to chair
while the smart chilren stare
made me feel disgrace --
innah my mind
countin' vowels and signs
to catch up with all dey said --
it got me mixed up
annah failed the grade
an dey ignor'd me like I was dead --
da music went away
den one day
while sitt'in by a stream --
bubbles came an go
da music started to play --
in a 'chunk of memory
a music weave'd annah numbers seem'd
to agree --
annah music weaves lik da wind in trees
every where dat I look --
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