Language of Flowers (feat. DJ Behold)

from Floriography by Taste Nate

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about

The Language of Flowers is Called Floriography

lyrics

Linguistics or language of flowers
It isn't the what
But the knower hower
Applied wisdom
Acquisition of formulas
What's that?
Our current system
Is a proclamation of "facts'
What the observer has acquired
From watching
Does not qualify them as acts

And I ain't doing anything
There is an inheritance of patterns
Processing your development
As you stare into caverns
Pre determined practices
Work favorably to our planters
We can dedicate less on facts
Consider our observations
To be insightful to our behaviors
Bloom like a flower bent
without a person spent


They tried to write me out the history books
I laughed
When ever I was shorthanded
I existed in the stenograph
When the moon type
Is decided
The spell casts
Like the Spell on the boldface liars
The cold case
And never remedy
The attitudes
The words screaming from
My Scold face
Ignited like the growth spaced
With the Latitudes of platitudes
When the voice interjected
I intercepted the bicameral
The voice that spoke through me
And the voice that spoke
To the other flower holes
The visions intercepted
By the passer buyer
Like a window shopper
Getting gratified
By my elaborate pattern throws
A stimulation into
Extraordinary memory relapse
Like a historical camera Roll

The luxuries we seek
Are rain fall
A furry company
Nestled underneath
Nothing extinguishes
The energy of electricity
Discharging from my speech
Let me take yall to the memory
That you all so commonly beseech
The men of mars
Touched the Garden of Eden
One tree they were so spent on meeting
I was the one that they discarded
As meaningless
Cause they were dead on speechless

And I was eloquent
They chose quaaludes
Over colloquialism
Mild melodious
Symphonic Cenotes
Wild rainbow
Syntactic board
Curves resistance mergers
The firmament of religious fervor
Poured a calcination
Over ever reservation
That he would seek
He called it his called belief
And he was dead on keeping It
And he would speak it loud
The Language of Flowers

Every time a cowboy came to town
A new wildflower
Was staring him down
It would work on him
He wouldn't work with it
Every time he would kill it
He would try to tie it down
Like he would tie the ribbon
The last thing he visioned
Was the flowers
Colored dye on his pigment
They both transpired
To become United
Without interruption
From their mission

credits

from Floriography, released June 27, 2020

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