Yesterday my sister nell got bit by a  rat
Today we peeled another piece of mothers skin back
And covered the dirt with newly laid gravel
Made a runway and jutting launch tower of Babel
Our travel towards space begins
A somewhat sinister menace administered by miniature men
Crafting frame works and grafting grids with new skin
To Martians our frantic antics must look ant like
The advance of implants supplanting plant life
This baffling scaffolding a mass of grabbing gripping and grappling
Alive with life lines
And humanoid insects aligned with hive minds
Melding and welding according to plan
Gleaming beams teeming with clamoring hammering hands
Still accruing new recruits
This strange fruitless tree takes root
Perhaps a parasite acquiring winding road ways and wiring
Like a spire aspiring to heaven
The shuttles cradle
A host boasting an array of umbilical cables
Digging deeply in the crust to supply vital substances
Siphoning mothers skin for sustenance
So each vein courses to pastoral forests
Forcing spindle and chord to dwindling  city resources
From the heavens these siphons seem like quilt seems
Manifesting structures of haves and have nots
Threads of train tracks morph to metaphors for class
Structures impose enclose and kill dreams
In a patch work of urban grays and grass greens
There’ll be grays before our dying days
Its hard to perceive in terms of black and white
T minus tension mounting and counting to the flight
Tubes designed to carry crude food and oil smoothly
Radiate forming webs of deceptive beauty
Mothers looking pale today
Did that fact miss you
And whiteys
And who
Is that the true issue
The host is ready for the symbiost
The merger of metal for mans progression
Wait this is madness we’re in a recession
I have no rice to spare for the wedding procession
Alien lenses await to capture this event
A lumbering tractor whose thundering tracks fracture the cement
Carries and nestles the vessel
Our flags pressed against the pristine whit hull
Treading on all those old native skulls
Who knows what wrath the belly of the craft
Will birth into our space race
This bird carried to its mount as if still in its egg
My little sister nel might break her leg
T minus one hour to the mating at the tower
The marriage the moment of triumph
The conquest the lust
The consummation the thrust
The final thrust sent with a sonic boom
If not for which I’d still be clinging to the womb
The thrust of elation thrust with pillows of billowing vapors
A tree died so I could  have this paper
But I digress
They say when radio waves are broadcast they just keep going further and further into space
Thrust away from home thrust to return to soon
Thrust to catch up with long forgotten tunes
Maybe that ship maybe someday
We’ll all catch up with whiteys on the moon
How will you use the resources given to you in this life

Saul’s verse

You should just listen
Then hit his web page for more dope shit