so it’s just been seven days, no rumour, october november december no word from the ants running down the arteries of telephone land i’ll drive up will you be there to pick it up? need the lazy eye from the newspaper tell me, sandton – it isn’t a real place now is it?
because my horse is fixed my eyeteeth licked my tensions ready for your violent cities
with their boobytrapped canyons rescue rescue 10111
your fears for my years are obvious in your tears
like I’d rate you slate you bait you release you never on a leash rip you back from the track of your attack in the bottles and the throttles of speed liquor and light at the end of the downward rabbit slowslow down the N1 joburg at my back your body back home down the rabbit hole
mix my drinks with the sex of your quick-quick saddleback buck fuck kiss in the hiss in the deep of the night late stage of the fight pupils of light ain’t the weak it’s the mighty, yeah, who’ll drive?
fall on the small of my back crack a rib from your grip slip slip slip it’s the nature of the game it’s the same in the bottles and the throttles of speed and liqour and light at the end of the downward rabbit hole mole hole slowslow rabbithole rabbithole rabbithole slowslow down the N1 joburg at my back your body back home down the rabbithole – seven days, no rumour, october november december, no word from the ants running down the arteries of telephone land.

(this next bit isn't complete, i'm still waiting for Zubz to send me the complete lyrics...)

listen: i took a bite from a springbok and got buckfever don’t ever worry about the ... because i don’t brush either ... the way of the noodle plus either that’s illogical that’s no hurry and no rush either you never that that it could happen so you’re caught nappin seeking the truth in paranormal science i saw it happen receive a vision of an eagle that was high-soaring drunk try-scoring.... the lessons that we learned on the african streets learnt to pulsate my heart to an african beat like vatican priests i dedicate my whole being to ensure i stay away from all the.... and realise my full potential like a martial artist ... like my ninja weapon so i can hit hardest when you least expect it get both feet infected ... by drumbeats dissected into symphonies keyboards and drums and symphonies poetry in motion the source of all commotion mix together into a deadly potion

(note: part 1 by Toast; part 2 by the magnificent Zubz. Song title nicked from a menu board in Sublime, Grahamstown.)