Mother Culture's Circle

Lyrics by Cozmo Beregofsky

Struggle is on in this person, in amongst myself, then I listen to the rhythm and it’s funky as hell. 'Cause I’m balancing my eggs and I’m running as well, am I winning, am I losing? Man, I can’t even tell. It’s repeated rehearsal, Mother Culture’s circle. It’s repeated rehearsal, Mother Culture’s circle. It’s repeated rehearsal, Mother Culture’s circle, man, fuck this! However, by the sea and next to the desert is a land with some people who’s minds can expand. From the meditator to the poet and the musician and even the doctors, optometrists, and beauticians. Feeling at home and humble, eating an apple crumble. Totally in love with this environment. Talking about Adelaide in the south of Australia. We drink paleies up ‘till we’re drunk and we jump down to the street and skateboard across town. It’s astounding surroundings around me and we profoundly are never bound to the boundaries.

It’s the magnificence, never assisting the dissonance ever since the government benefits bettered inner wit. Individual innovation, vocal demonstration leading to the opposite of what you would call abnegation. Taste the great imagination as I demonstrate how to make amazing creations. I used to waste days playing Playstation. Now my mates say “You got the ill communication!” Holding the mic tight, reciting with the finest of timing. The bottom line is I’m alive and I’m properly rhyming. I tell the truth as a matter of fact, and even though you might have doubted me, I’m fatter than that. I shatter your crap yapping, I’m kicking you off of the map. Don’t relax with wack tracks and be slack – do something about it. I’m bound to down a brown stout quick. Astound me when the beats and lyrics are compounding.