Artist: Oblique Brown
Album:  Oblique Brown
Song:   Snapshots
Typed by: graham_moonlight@yahoo.com

[Verse 1]
When I die I'll probably go out like Charlie Bird Parker
Cigarette dangling from my lips, liver swimmin' in Vodka
Walk the path with have nots, where pain's snapshot
Is an old massive flock, some sick with bad coughs
Tryna sell me god inside a 5 train's cramped box
Invoking folks hope sayin' "Praise the black cross."
I wave 'em off, no talk, too stressed from my day job
They still citing scriptures urging me to thank god
I tune 'em out thinkin' bout the brand of scotch
I cop from that middle eastern man who runs his shop
Across the storefront church, beside an abandoned lot
On a half built block, landlocked by despair
Decemeber brisk air wouldn't risk to drift here
Where hope floats from yellow crack pipes, spliffs and squares
A riff blares in the distance and I'm forced to shift gears
Intended this writing I'm rhyming to help me think clear
But that song I hear in the distance makes me drink beer
A lost love is remembered, Brooklyn rooftop:
Watchin the sun dip west and soon due pregnant moon shot
After hours pillow talk then sex till her legs hurt
Waiting to see who said that four letter word first
In retrospect I should have said before she had to blast off
Promised myself I'd chalk her as my last loss
Its years later, she's back home in some next cat's spot
I'm sitting on the sidewalk, staring at the asphalt
Talking to Ray, he said, "Chee, just take your mask off
Seems your future starts only when the past stops
And, she ain't the one who would fall for that fast talk
She probably wont see you again, let that Jazz Walk
And hope she takes this verse as your breathing snapshot."

[Verse 2]
In a sentimental mood, sifting through pictures accrued
Through the past few years, stumbled on this wrinkled snapshot
A brownstone on a Brooklyn block provides the backdrop
She's sittin' on a sun-splashed stoop, her hands: crossed
Hints of lip gloss trace a nearby beer can's top
Halter top got me wondering where that tan stops
Almond skin tone, make a mute man wanna sing songs
Curves inspiration, for carvings on a King's throne
She's half smilin', the flag of the island
She managed to dance away from, stands at half mast
Upon her bedroom's window sill, eyes indo filled
Heavy and red reflect the strife of her civil war riddled
Motherland, where brother's hand, widows wills
And they barely flinch when it still drips with blood
I take a step back and, stare above
Thinking bout all the things I've lost including love
History, hope, all of it captured by a flashbulb
She asked once, if there's anything deeper than love
I ain't know what to say, no matter how deeper I dug
I know the answer know, but the chance to answer it's gone
I've come apart baby, I've come of heart lately
Trouble man no more, I'll patch myself back with this song baby
one more glance at your face then the past stops
as I stand up, (stand up) and crumple up your snapshot