The air sucks here, dust and smog from the Great Firewall, so I'm bound to breathe it all inside, with my windows shut and my eyes wide, absorbed in a cluster of lines. I contemplate - all intertwined - but with no guitar or Chinese date, yet, I toil onward, like what's an adlib? Paddling with misshaped paddles, battling myself, rattling my brain for help. Delve into a new space along these airwaves. I could be the Teddy Pendergrass of rap and sing sweet lullabies perhaps, or the Rain Main T-Pain with a bright brain, a chain, and a tune or two thirds. I'm a fraction, a faction and quite active so let's get going. Seek the all knowing. Stones get to rolling. Time gets to slowing while I test it. Try and best those before me. Adore me on the shoulders of boulders. Teddy Rycroft.
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