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No More Heroes

by Solillaquists of Sound



The digital version of this album is available at iTunes.


released August 4, 2009

The second installment of 'The Listener's Trilogy'

Anti’s Most Buzz-Worthy Hip Hop Group Breaks the Mold with Laser-like Precision on Aggressive, Focused Sophomore Album

From Hollywood to our nation’s capitol, the concept of the hero is more pervasive than ever in 2009. But in a time when donning the cape is so en vogue, Florida’s Solillaquists of Sound go the next step with their most personal work yet. The second in a trilogy of conceptually-linked albums, No More Heroes sheds the overtly cerebral approach that marked their debut As If We Existed in exchange for a more aggressive, in-your-face sound that is driven by the synth-heavy beats of MPC mastermind DiViNCi and the urgent vocals of Swamburger, Alexandrah, and Tonya Combs.

The past few years have seen the quartet blossom as they toured the world with the likes of Sage Francis, KRS-One, Bad Brains, Ozomatli, El-P and Michael Franti & Spearhead, who they also backed on the Election Year anthem “The Obama Song.” Their unparalleled live shows have won SoS a rabid grassroots following of devoted fans inspired by their eclectic musical aesthetic and unique approach to songwriting.

With a musical canvas fusing elements of hip hop, dubstep, prog-rock, afrobeat, folk music, and epic movie scores, the sound of No More Heroes is a blistering collage that never loses its identity, maintaining an underlying unified sound. The kid gloves are off; the record is primal, energetic, and as passionate as ever, a collection of songs representing a group at the apex of their collective virtuosity.

16 tracks. 60 minutes.
(review courtesy of Anti-/Epitaph Records)

01. Marvel
02. Harriet Tubman pt. 2
03. New Sheriff in Town
04. Gotham City Chase Scene
05. Look
06. Popcorn
07. The Curse
08. Dolla Dolla
09. The Roots of Kinte
10. Fittin’ In
11. Death of The Muse
12. 4 People
13. Heroes
14. Solillaquy (the 4-telling)
15. Bulletproof
16. No More Heroes (the illusion of silence)



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Track Name: Marvel
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
Fly. Coloring a book named I. black to many sheep where the cheap tax high. Pillow-case number one of every waking life, playing dice with a simple trait and favorite line… “No snake eyes.” Adamant I’ve become for the will to be a super- nah… more like Luke Cage. Marvel man suit days. Who pays me to be on point? Me! Got about Eleven-hundred other runner ups in a rush to save a life for the wrong means. Wonder what it all means. Summer love falling for the winter bug… you cold blooded. These foes love it. Couldn’t survive without the heat to rise. I got tough skin to defeat the lies. Passion… just ask them. Strong enough to kick your ass in. Backed by action, (figured as much) to touch core individuals free from crutch plus… I don’t wanna save the world from evil, I wanna save the world from themselves… to recognize we are the obstacles. Hard to believe you would need x-ray opticals to be a light to the Nightshade. Likely I’m hire, heroes retired.

Times are dangerous
Listen to me now, I know they’re dangerous
Times are dangerous
Times are dangerous

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
City blood’s boiling, rises Anita Fite.
Restless decept I despise in finite crisis.
Character of Empress inspired,
Exposed into open of Olympic size.
Foe’s a parent, vantage: disguised.
Load of vocal weaponry’s, a force undenied
Fast and accurate in fashioning paths of my time
Few immune to voodoo
I use parent tools handed down
Now I save you.

VERSE 3 (Swamburger)
We the people unmasked
Fighting for the mass
Have a will to grasp
What’s at stake
Whether you believe in
Fate or negate
The state of now
Circling about
From square one
Seeking another mother to nurture your fathered time
And time again
We will try to be your everything
But not everything about us is a win win

We protect the bold
Enough to be flying despite
A prohibit bit of forbidden sky
In these times.

(Swamburger & Alexandrah)
Take a little credit for your faults…
Halt that personal closure towards your vault
Better the bitter proportionate pro
Hoarding cheddar for the fortunate goal
Found a bit of material
Literal definition for the record that the pitiful action is boxed in
Plus circuit of worth is boxed in
Stuck wording the mouth,
Alerting the route
Blurting the ouch, the truth hurts
Ain’t no better example than our faults.
Track Name: Harriet Tubman pt. 2
VERSE 1 (Alexandrah)
Caught up queens dress easy
And pelvic thinking kings attempt to
Quench unrest with heavy heaving
Weaves conceal locks
And cease us seeing ancestry in real places
Like the face of young and seasons
One reason of multitudes
To slow and stop the follow suits of walking dead
Is cliff beyond the wishing well of promises
We know too well these hungry devils fed
From the beginning
Now that we own ourselves
I wonder if we’ll ever for ourselves do well
Tempts exempt from rationale and strategies
To re-create an inner hell
Gone missing
Is memory of majesty, significance of family, and worth of queen
Ages of our stable era, clarity of conscientious reasoning

Harriet Tubman would be proud to see the exploitation we’ve allowed

VERSE 2 (Swamburger)
I wanna know when did we settle for slavery aimlessly aiming for Famous and Andy, shamelessly tapping the toe for show and telling our folks… “Take the abuse for now on the boat, then hop on the wagon of busing and bragging about a belief in affirmative action.” I thought this would never happen after certain people started rapping about stopping the violence. “Oh, oh, oh, oh wait.” Don’t it seem as if we waited long enough for change, praying for the oppressor’s God to reign over us as a crutch- such as, when you know the world trusts whatever you tell em on television in repetition, fixing the problem with rims and chicken… ha ha ha ha, nope. Get a better meaning for the word dope. And when it comes for the time of your people’s demise, would you keep with the lies you wrote? Not me, that’s so sloppily but in the meantime you goin’ copy these lowest common denominator propagators.


Some of the troubles in the world are obvious but have to be pointed out. Some of the pain you feel is not for real and made to be about. Most forget the bottom-line to define the problems design while others invest in a pleasant performer informing YOU… “crank that soldier toy.” Now eeny-meeny-miny-mo, Aunt Jemima, Sambo, Uncle Ben and Mammy too- which one are you black people? Forced to package soul in boxes. (coal scuttle) Struggle, struggle! Muffled brother, free willy… sister too. Now pick yourself up.

Think you can? Think you can! Think I can? Hope you think so.

Train for the boat you rowed on. I bought a life vest but it’s mine, get yours on. I might’ve been a fool for the past for your wrongs but right now we got facts to move on.


Past where are you now see? Negligent of a new injury, a wound I carry upon belief. Beyond my now I walk asleep. Honestly I’m an old friend of time. I used to be ahead of mine until the day I killed my end. Live to walk in circles again.
Track Name: New Sheriff in Town
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
Scenery: block’s been mopped and robbed of. Lack-lust shown, doubt runs around pub. Routine day, repeat and mock plot. Barflys flock then stopped the sock-hop. Dance to the rhythm of a similar drum. Some never will admit a better feeling we sung, numb to the point of popcorn rock is hip. Burn CD’s! Download, cop and quit. Loose lips let loose on ego trips. Skill decreased heavy when emo hit. No plan for the future leadership. Follow hollow dreams. Model this steelo kit. Stop-go pace, no destination… Go. Speed-race chase that mental patient. Stop. Who erased living life copas(t)etic… Edit credit from them ones who’s supposed to get it? We opposed but let it happen anyway. A penny weighs a tongue plus an act with a knack for beef… but to the enemy, never the friend of me. Handing understanding I can manage, manning time like “we demand this.” Recess dropped, now they want business. Kids turn tricks like Kris on Christmas. Crime and little fishes, (gunshot) “Yo what is this?” Standstill neutrals push the boat. MC’s ain’t teaching but push the dope. Somehow Coke got us on TV spokes filling up the GAPs, stealing up the raps, now the world think we on crack. Good looking out. I’ll remember what it’s all about cause I am..

HOOK (Swamburger)
…the new Billie Holiday, Cab Calloway, new Nina Simone, new Sly and the Family Stone, new 88 tapes, new experience and new fate, new scenery and update. World renown/ Solillaquists of Sound… new sheriff in town.

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
Why weak minded try to find a choir and wanna preach like teacher
Script down sit down facts and made up
Seizure as a leisure all your sheep could take up
In the lobby of physician’s forced a needle in the fetal
Fed a blend of distress
Dis-trust then goes frontline followed
By divide at relation woes
Early bird here gets hurt first
Fake bait shock at no worm
Hate this tasteless situation?
Replace nature fake of innovation?
Great shouldn’t be remaining in waiting in aim of taking blame
No seraph’s fault with assaulted involvement in every stake claimed
Case of break, rape of address
Vacate cranium, man do the rest
Found best kept property of government suddenly
Now youth owes rent, tenant of stress
Not much more than horribly presented,
Sent a notice for removal of the truth
Said was anticipated a basic assimilation
Mental ground’s been plowed,
It ain’t ever gonna be done
Back on words like worth of current currency
Cools slack the noose and refute proof of urgency
Rid it now, get it out
Know urges, where they come from,
Understand why hurry
Purge the lurking wicked fitted
Dimwits missed by missions of a liquid frigid
Stellar wiz kids pay insipid interest
When it mimics pictures flipped in gist and indicates
A quick dismiss of drastic on conspire list,
The term is prison sift.

Everybody Move! Everybody Move!
Cause if you don’t, you’ll never see the revolution ever come to be.

Everybody Move! Everybody Move!
Cause if you don’t, you’ll never see the revolution ever come to be.

La La La La La La LAA LAA LAAA..

Track Name: Gotham City Chase Scene
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
Typical for a chase scene, nobody wait, move outta my way, place blame upon the same who never wanted me to be confrontational. Bait’ll be the face of a planet granted we fall for the rodeo okeedoke. (Only folk to be choked by the tightrope… not me!) I’m wanted for believing in KING. My wife could be arrested for a similar thing but she gave birth to peace before she married me for better so, now the town is chasing her about with scarlet letters. Odd-balling it with fit genes, whipped for ice cream; forfeit the portrait of roots for icing. Tightening a screw loose… suits of blue noose ties play dead until the noose in youth rise. My eyes wept for a leader then and still do. Running for the position of KING will kill you so I press on interfacing with less on the point of making points with a point to press on. The mood of stress gone, test of threat gone… my neighborhood submits to unpredictable headlines. “Don’t believe the hype!” I know you wanna be all normal and formal. The world is flat… I just tried to warn you man. Take heed to the sea of zombies that chase seekers of nonbelievers of a world they say is peace but in fact is off track… (a train wreck set to a tune that wears black.) And still I run from a mob of chalk walk soon to be a victim to a dream that won’t talk.

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
I’m being hunted
By blind who judge impossibles to see
Cavalry’s coming
To fell synesthetics to its knees
I birth blues in a crimson tide
Neath buildings that scrape the sky
Gather palette to restore the warmth
From downpour of insipid eyes
Whet appetite, whisper them vivid wishes every night
So in that waking dawn of day
The motive’s hint remains
There’s no need to escape
Track Name: Look
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
Look at me… with a finance of pardons, I’m allowed to be whatever my land shows you and allows to see. Liberty… boy she’s looking slim to me. Exercising right or purging from the sight of persons binging on the views they like. Look! Pleasure principles schooling light hearted dimwits with disposable wick sticks… exposing tit, tat, toe… in every tail told to jit, jack, joe and prick too. You should really look at what we did to you. Nothing! We tax our existence and attempt to disappear, quietly bluffing just to say we’d amount to something. Look mom, nomad… bitter we are with no bags to carry on the images of looking like we had a standard to follow. Man you’re tomorrow. Answer the question in the bottle. How do I get out of your blindfold when I’m told to look for depth when death threats the breath of liberty’s best bet?

HOOK (Brad Register)
Over mountains of depression we will climb,
Just to wake our sleeping lives,
It’s a battle we’ve been facing in our minds,
But to blame our human nature is a waste of time.

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
Looking through the roof,
Identity’s near dead
Replacement games, material aims,
and public schools pretend
That the ruse is fruitful
To illusion that it holds
With the proof of useless certainty
They worthied search to never know
Now look, Sentiments reflect
In impulse of the current youth
And detriment excels
With swell of sweet abuse
Their medicine’s not preventative,
Their practice apparatus cold,
Pills are prescribed to drive a sedative
Straight to the seat of your soul
Now look
Mister, misses are just equipped for surface
But one of three’s not meant to be it all
From non-identifying gripe to
Strong enough belief for letting go of what we saw
We run to danger disguised as brighter future
While to ourself a stranger
Flagging down a wakeful state in cityscapes of crave
For feeling new’s a likely doom to captive of crusade.

Track Name: Popcorn
VERSE 1 (Alexandrah)
Covered in stuttering young cause of cluttered hunger lines
Everyone’s a customer of something they despise.
Just along for the ride.
Tube it moved the social climb
Into visual war which time
Lets regrets as slippery
Butter smothered witchery.
It’s a spectator’s crime.
Didn’t never know the price,
Tuck me in with bad advice.
Wonder why the children play
Better in a stepford state?
Not a one would inquire.
All they were interested in was popcorn

Popcorn! We like your teller vision but the television is telling us to vision more than what you’re telling us. Popcorn! Don’t get jealous pops. Give us what we need, I’ma seed, nurture me. No water please. Feed…

VERSE 2 (Swamburger)
Popcorn! Knock on pops to get a bag of their very own to be like the Jones’ next door. “What do you want it for?” Pop would say. Hesitant to cop for corn, shop for jawns they never touched after a year or two. Anyway, a penny saved he figured, until a day’s delay… The carnival came in town packed with clowns. Now, how’s this gonna go down? Pop’s contemplating… “Popcorn’s just a date away from kids going mad.” So he calls em over to his lap, begins a rap about vegetables, hoping it’ll distract em from the pop spectacle. Guess you know the rest, thinking what the kids stressed… “BUMP VEGGIES, (listen) BUMP POPS! WE WANT POPCORN!”


Bridge (Jeff Ilgenfritz)
Got no silver, got no gold,
With no woman by my side,
Just an old road spectre soul,
Along for the ride.
Track Name: The Curse
I wrestle with a number of routine judgments and trials
They’re counting days til I’ll be dead, or change my style
Assumptions made by strangers every day
Like they’ve read my files
Laymen relate with jokes they make
The catch to my laughter’s I’m forcing a smile

Wasn’t my plan today
But go ahead and laugh away

I’ll reach for the peak of it all maybe you’ll see more to me
Wave a space in the sky, help your satellites find decency
Sail face to the wind, break conditions you’ve placed so hastily
My beauty does not fit into your box, so stop trying to make it please.

It’s the curse of pioneers, but I know
I got a good thing going here
It’s the curse of pioneers
But I know I got a good thing going

And I’m doing
Better, every day
Because of those of you who stay aware
That we’re as great as we make
And not all differences need to be so explained
Track Name: Dolla Dolla
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
Dolla, Dolla, ought to promise more of tomorrow then momentary holigram’s fix-fix, candy coated excess fit for nothing better than misinterpreted nitwits to spend a dolla on tits tipping the game to play another hit or flip the stakes higher. Add a bill to the tab please sire… for, we admire dolla, dolla, style. There’s a urgency for currency to be spent, I want it now! The deal’s not enough, Im’a consumer bloomer congruent to “all out,” union of moving into the fall route. Split between a poor-trait and a rich pinch of which pretty penny makes intense sense, since I’m looking for the seat of success in my 2 cents to a differ-rinse in washing the brain to sustain rent, clothes, and what it all meant before the dolla, dolla, holla, holla, blue collar rocwila taught you how to be a scholar working at McDonald’s parlor… top it off with fries. Electric shock… the man with no dolla dies.

HOOK (Swamburger)
Change? Tell me that you got a little I’m a little drained. Trouble is I fought a world and I’ma let it change the way I live in honoring the mighty one in vein.

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
Sense it appeals a negative field’s
Work cure for your hard earned surface
Thank you change due to your mind.
“Cents should be vented from pockets
For lockets and stock picks”
Stop its accomplishment in Maslow’s five
And business dies
But decadence says its participants
Can’t regulate spent, regiment course,
Reverse a debt or finger source of the crime.
Holidays take the obvious for display
Obligation makes the hasty wasting after taste
Of lazily made purchases a worthless lurking debt to be paid
Fashion detonates to break a bank for style
Rebels find delight and fight in spending riots fire
With a dopamine rush, don’t I mean much
Enough to owe a loan proof of what we do.

Track Name: The Roots of Kinte
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
Hello, my name is… whatever the game is. Whatever it takes that’ll make you famous. Do I have to smoke? What’s the formula? Not from the east but I’m living in florida. Check my back up. Is that all kosher? Am I doing what a superstar is supposed to? What about my holster? Should I have a gun, a story with a twist, and a plot to run? For fun or funds? Will it matter to son or sun? What about my girl? (Just the hook?) What about this song just for looks? Should I hit the books for more material? Not in this case, I can fake till I make it in homes of my market then hone in on targets, completing my garnish of feasting on garbage, releasing the art of depleting an artist.

HOOK (Swamburger)
Kunta Kente should’ve been my claim… couldn’t have put him in a box with a name like Kunta Kente. What the fuck you say? Kunta Kente… should’ve been my claim… couldn’t have put him in a box with a name like Kunta Kente. Oh, true. You must know Shaka Zulu. Nigga, who you? Shaka Zulu! Oh. You should meet this girl Nefertiti to address the meaning of a superceding black superstar with a limited amount of bourgeois-bop to rock mooli-pop.

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
Talk about a pressure measured right for diamonds
Lypo suck it up or let the crush refine me?
Should I count a calorie or times cup size grew
Faster than the backwoods of a southern bayou?
Wonder what a wanting’s like when weight consumes.
I’m stable but a staple’s all the meds are suggesting I use.
I’m feeling locked, but I wanna rock
With all the stars having second thoughts.
Our tragedy in public rots,
Cause all we do it watch
Video vixens taking the cake, with their
Mocha twists and apple shake.
On chest is rested rep of the world in
Silicone, I plastic fastrack cracks the atlas.
With every curve few shake the urge
I ain’t gonna pass on my one chance to be heard now.

HOOK (Swamburger)
Kunta Kente should’ve been my claim… couldn’t have put him in a box with a name like Kunta Kente. Kunta Kente… should’ve been my claim… couldn’t have put him in a box with a name like Kunta Kente. I should talk to Nefertiti. Tell me what’ll happen if I change, I need a range of meaning Nefertiti! Please girl, please!

BRIDGE (Swamburger & Alexandrah)
You’ll hear my plea to become your own master
And once you do he’ll be waiting for you. Who? Shaka Zulu!
Track Name: Fittin' In
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
Had the advantage of an adolescent attitude, saw the world new through the low class view… proposed positive would be the best way to go so I lived underground with my stereo. Kept with the times even on my birthday you know. Made a date with the earth to stop laying low. It’ll come soon or late yo I’m patient... (hope soon before the thought of me is vacant.) Matter fact let me see how my peers be… (Above ground I walk a bit scared really.) Should’ve brought some money, gotta credit card though… (keep walking to the beats on my stereo.) Sounds different from the ones they like to rock right? Guess I ain’t up with the new-new like… (shake yo ass and… blah, blah, blah.) Approach slow, “you will never fit in,” they say. I play it off like I don’t care anyway knowing damn well I wish I was down. Que sera, they won’t have it, I’m a misfit clown.

BRIDGE (Swamburger)
People drinking, people smoking, but they will not invite me to their clubs or their house parties cause I don’t do these here things. When I told them I was cool they’d just doubt my cool and laugh then I changed my walk and gave up talk, still they all just laugh.

I can’t fit in
No, no, no
I can’t fit in
Oh I guess I ought to tell you
I can’t fit in
No, no, no
I can’t fit in

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
Been in expansive
Free along bright cosmos coast
Spot a lovely place
Full range of cerulean and jade and gold
But there’s fire in the aims
Of its citizens and their claims
They’re waging wars
Over nothing more than mortal fixates
That do always wane
Call it dawning of esteem
It’s a synchronized right relief
For alleviating clouds around
The consequence of fighting peace
I’ll take a quick retreat please

BRIDGE (Alexandrah)
People scheming, people dying
But they do not notice me
From their capsules or their castles
Cause I don’t do these here things
When I told them I was troubled
Bout the state they’re keeping in
They just laugh and pass it over
Accustomed to this violence

Track Name: Death of the Muse
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
It could be for Dilla that I wanna raise it up a notch, sick or not, simple to the point and rock on with a poignant operation. I value the opinion of a critic, but if I’m to appeal to a cynic, forget it. This’ll be for Chuck D, Brother J, KRS, PRT and Y-Z. Wisely enough, I’ma choose an influence I can trust… plus if you don’t wanna bum rush politrix, I’ma get the point quick… (Bush again for president.) Damn straight, hella bent on fam fate. It could be for love that I am this way (and this state of mind of mine will image what it is to be a stand up trait.) I don’t wanna see you in a situation where you can’t escape thinking I never tried to help you out when my hand’s in your face like “c’mon, really no… C’MON! MOVE!” This is for the future men and women inspiration who push and get pushed back by jaded acts that play roles to interfere with “playa stats” like a movie bout a pimp’s gonna show me how to act black... inspire me.

We walk upon the surface of being what you want us to be in attempts to please, forgetting to breathe due to how we believe many will receive our lives. The lie’s alive. The mind ain’t surprised to die. We walk upon the surface of being what you want us to be in attempts to please, forgetting to breathe due to how we believe many will receive our lives but time changes, definitely… I can change it.

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
Assist, arrange and maintain acclaim
For those thrown aside when they’re ahead of their time
No reason to restrain the greats who shape life divine
Can’t you see their motivating
Influential innovation
Satisfied but not complacent
With the gift they have to make
This last just a little stronger
Til you see beauty in the struggle

VERSE 3 (J-Live)
<coming soon>


VERSE 4 (Chali 2na)
<coming soon>

Track Name: 4 People
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
I know this group right, they the true type, the ones who give love regardless of a duke fight. They don’t complain a lot, they don’t hassle. If it wasn’t for you they wouldn’t battle. They’d take a bullet in a minute if they had to. Always had a plus for bad news. Rush to flush a pair of unkind foes with unforgettable math. You’d consider it pass you, either that or laugh through the facts due to this group I speak of. If you though it was us were flattered but, talking bout ourselves just feed buzz… well, first im’a tell you who the group was. There was 5 born from the word of mouth then grew to 500, passing on traits of great tapes to 5000. Some call em fans or the crowd… if you’re listening that group is you now. I used to imitate the group, still visit quit a few even when I got nothing new to say. Who are they? I’m with them and they with me… extended hand to the fan, you family.

You might just think it’s ‘bout us,
But it’s not just about us,
Picture us performing with no one on the floor (no),
But it goes deeper than that,
Yes, much more deeper than that
There’s no one who loves you more.

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
When I was down they cheered me on
Now I’m grateful just to know them
Wherever I go, wherever we go
Positive excited types who would explain
To those who know the overall
But question details
Glad to have met a rep of imminent kin
Exponential reaches cause of field we’re in
First turned up in a group of few
Friends joined in next, newcomers too
Teamed on street and nearly broke the phones
Inundating radio
Applaud our gift
I’m so grateful that you did


VERSE 3 (Swamburger)
Thank you for your patient timing, I’m in debt to you forever. I appreciate your will to demonstrate the haps, biggin up the under-pup accumulating daps. Sharing piece of mind with you used to be a fright. Now I feel a bond between the song and the “RIGHT!”

Thank you for your patient timing,
I’m in debt to you forever
Grateful to have with you grown
Every city really feels like a home
Live this truth so I hope it shows
Love you all it’s important to know

Track Name: Heroes
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
I approach life with open arms, lessons learned, toting palms that tell the future close enough to keep me out of harms bluff but can’t seem to save a single thing. Who’s afraid of evil’s theme, constituents of time, and people’s dreams? Far from the norm we appear quite average… no mask, no costume, no pre-exposed lavish. I manage to cure cats with courtesy… constant. Some oppose, uphold… backpedal my content. Imagine having power over misused authority to free the captivated but the captured ignores the intent imprint indented on forehead. Victims run from help and want more of what’s force-fed. My kryptonite is that which governs bodies in the present like a president where tyranny is evident and evidence for all to see, but even with a palm to read, people trust superficial scrutiny wit more than all of we. You trust police more than we could ever be which says a lot for life and the obedience in policy, but not a single thread of your emotion is available when you’re offered gifts of potential and creative view. So, in the end my super powers tend to weaken while inner demons summon humans to be them while thinking of another convenience. Apparently I’m just preaching. Ok… murder, murder, kill, kill! Now we’re even.

(Heroes.) For the love of the people, equal standing on ground zero with you but I wanna better by-product. What are my options… honest? I want (Heroes!) But enough ain’t enough when you want a way to live without wanting to give that hundred percent back cause that could be the death of another hero-hero-hero. (Heroes.) What about em? (You’re my only hope to save the day.)

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
It’s a trick you stick to me,
Take my heart, wear it on your sleeve.
And toss it aside for cleaning,
Cause you soiled and spoiled the meaning.
Minus thinking twice of my gift to being
Without ever lifting a finger,
Without ever losing a dream.
I found that self-held hostages
Are stocked with ways
In popular demand for ridding of malaise.
By bidding only in the brain,
Being at ease with ideas and speech.
You wanted my advice,
Suffice to say,
Took knowing trophy held my wise at bay.
Without ever guessing for seconds
And without ever taking a day.
They refuse a move into it,
Just a step into it, simple I’ve been through its
Equal and intuit.
Acquainted friends they
Reach and breach my ingredient of feeling,
With seething greediest intent on killing
Questions of character coming up quick.
Sue me or sew me on armor, your wish.
Without credit sent on my way,
With only ghost of point you missed.

Track Name: Solillaquy (The 4-Telling)
HOOK (Alexandrah)
Step up in the room I speak
Message from the sum of me
Practice, math that’s indiscrete
Graph at moment’s notice, no defeat
Let your feature beat your fears
Get your feet to move a useful tune
And shred fourth dimension in their heads.

VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
Convinced of strong measure, I treasure the range of my belief to stand a better mind to grow, tan the bland of I dunnos. My motto prose: I have a dream to make reality an ideology where philosophy is a bottle of fidelity, embellishing on a lotto oath. Chance will still exist but the choice will be to know innately. Shangri-La be in effect of reaching our own height in delight of a opening-opening. Eye sight the few quite like the few that create a finishing touch to what’s what and must do. Not a Hammurabi consequence of dominance, im’a get the picture across, no frame and no loss. No harm and no foul. Syncopated trial of what used to be a given… now giving back is a forbidden slang in our chain gang of remains. I’ll remain me in the politics of mainstream. I’m facing self- motivated embracing(s) mom. Can you hear me? I’m still me. Never sold out your teachings, Pop’s good reason, opt to believe in… STOP! Proceed and make this your breathing. Thanks for receiving my soliloquy… what makes me, me… we, us, they, you too. Whose stage is this though? For the sake of what do I share my lip? Oh, I see… I’m not blind. I speak. I’m not mute. My love is obtuse. This is all true. Now, I’ma play the role like nobody’s listening… this is just in my head and it never existed.


When the spotlight’s on and the rest is black
I got something to address to myself and that’s
Stay true to the you you employ and act
Share a piece of your mind,
Then receive it back
Take note of the process-progress and now
Set motion to the limited the end of it is our …let downs
So let down the wall at the front of the stage
Bridge gaps, …no props and no page

VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
I take complex no complications
Kind love, no doubt
Passionate grace in the face of complacents, hatred I can do without
After penalties I paid, I can’t afford to equate with flawless kind
Living simple is a wisdom gained after years of covered shine
I gave my land to scapegoat status, hoping pain would bid me leave
Painted to escape my canvas, coloring over the sting of grief
To put my foot down in this battle was the strongest move of mine
War games bore me more than ever now, cause they’re just a waste of time to
Who I truly truly am,
What a height from where I’d imagined
And I do not give pause to approved public demands,
But appealed wrongful applause and now I live in exceptional hands
I swear
I will allow it all out
If it’s appreciated or not cause
I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t stop
My fear is dissected
I nurtured acceptance
No future regrets any steps of
my present, my present my present, here.
Track Name: Bulletproof
CHORUS (Alexandrah)
What’s dead to you is pushing through

VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
I was born King, pushing hip in 29, son of a preacher mind with the same name as he until at 39 he legally dropped it and changed it to honor a German protestant. I used to sing choir, went to college at 15, skipping 9th and 12th grade with big dreams of sociology and systematic theology… I’ma be like pops, (a pastor.) After 1954 I’m just that… 25 in Alabama facing lack of unity in tune with the omnipresent, I’m used to being “Jim Crow-ed” though. Relate to that! Where I stay there’s racial segregation. The measurement of a man is 98cents. Freedom and a home to write is $28.12 but I’m a long way from Walden I admit.

CHORUS (Alexandrah)
What’s dead to you is pushing through

VERSE 2 (Swamburger)
I played the game of victim too long to be a silent opposition to authority’s position. Listen! One day, while beginning a book I had a vision that would wake me in the middle of typing. Fast forward to the signing of that very book… (Harlem 58’) take a closer look. I was stabbed in the chest with an envelope opener, (black woman from Georgia named Izola.) Now, rewind back to that typing process, my vision of a promise-land in spite of death… people gathered speaking rather bold saying I was out of touch… “Bus boycotts are old.” Civil rights’ not a fight for the now even now in the present I’m learning how. Maybe I should just rest, slitter in my chest, pushing the envelope is not for the best.

CHORUS (Alexandrah)
What’s dead to you is pushing through

VERSE 3 (Swamburger)
No! I’ma wake from this… escape death while I gotta boat to fix. Reaper’s knocking but you can’t stop when a will to make a way is waiting over the mountain. So I wrote more books, led a people to action, marched on Washington with peace and passion, left the movement of the south in the north with Jackson, opposed war in Vietnam back to back then. Won’t sleep till the dream is alive… hold more rallies, get the poor organized. I believe in a date with death but if I gotta go now no fear is left… left away from stress. 39yrs to a King ain’t a thing what’s left… an absolute? Nah. Another living being wants to see if I’m bulletproof.

CHORUS (Alexandrah)
What’s dead to you is pushing through
Track Name: No More Heroes (the illusion of silence)
Tonya Combs (the listener)
Silence is not the absence of sound but the presence of one choosing not to listen.

It is the listener & only the listener that has the power to revive a dormant sound and disrupt this illusion of silence.

Times appear to be dark. It seems just as a ray of hope begins to illuminate what lies in the shadows something comes along and extinguishes it. And while these powerful voices are being silenced, those that remain continue to take on a villainous tone as they are met with more and more impassive ears.

There seems to be no more light, and no more heroes.

If we as listeners become less reflective and don’t provide feedback to what we hear, we create an environment where sound can’t live on. A deadened space, an anechoic chamber that keeps us isolated as we spiral deeper in to silence.

However, if we continue to listen, It is in this isolation that we may find the emergence of another heroic voice. And as other sounds fade, we must begin to realize that the real heroes only die when we stop listening to.. ø¨®ß´¬√´ß