Malaria - The Buttress, Jak Tripper

I put the belladonna in the eye drops for enhanced optics

I’m watching the pond fronds dance in the tropics

High off the trance inducement fumes arise from rocks

Singing songs with the frogs in the lagoon

Lost prophetess, who?

Monsoon is brewing to consume you and your entire platoon

When?

Soon!

Keep it moving

Surprise, the driest of our horizon

High sea rise in a bad moon

Hear the voice of raging ruin

Don’t go back, it’s a trap, she’s waiting there with Jak

The patron saint of pain, the lady Macbeth of rap

They tried with all their might but they could not deliver

From out the heart of darkness, Buttress and Jak Tripper

(May you live forever.)

(It really isn’t tough to stay on your feet in the jungle. You’ve got the best

weapons in the world.

You have that added insurance, your jungle kit;

Iodine,

band-aids and dressing, wound tablets, insect repellent, and water

purification tablets.)

I’m dope ocher and heroin

Me and the folk heroine Buttress

Like Joan of Arc yelling holy messages

Goat empress, cult heretics

We skin humans down to the ghosts and expose skeletons

I dead lift stone megaliths

My entrance like a Persian king robed elegant

My face pierced with the finest of gold rings and a throned elephant

I smoke Camels til my throat hemorrhages

Emphysema all in my chest like Joe Henderson

In front of a panel of psychics I watch my body from out of body jolt trembling

A thousand electric volts were sent through it

My burner slowly creep out from a trench-coat like a land snail antenna tip

Cult leader, treacherous, stone genuine

I’m no Xenophon, freak power, up for election

Shooting that dope, we want the senate sick

I’ll drive to your pregnant chick crib, shoot up the whole development

You know shoot up the whole development