This is a pentacle
Interesting thing about this pentacle is it’s an upright pentacle
Let me see, it’s…oh it’s actually fairly fresh
This is how gangs talk to each other
*Laughter*
Ok but see this is how occultists talk to each other
*Gasps*
This here is a psilocybin mushroom. (Yeah, yeah)
So probably, uhh…they had a psilocybin ritual. (Mmm)
*Oooooh*
Uhh idiosyncratically crafting another masterpiece
Duck and dodging demons that always seem to be after me
Bob and weave off the tree bon appétit
Always twice as hungry as what you’re probably imagining
Yeah (Yeah) yeah Wanda with the Mind Stone
This that kinda power you cowards can’t put price on
I’ll dissolve it all and call it a day go right homе
Snakes in your head bite thе apple off your iPhone
I’m known to dabble do my damage on the mic-phone
I do a dab then do some magick in the right zone
Death is but a transition when the light’s blown
Dealing with the in-between ‘till the poltergeist gone
No-show ghosts under the stairs
No one cares either under-prepared
Or don’t go there
Boil bones
Charge stones and make homes there
You cross the goat and get turned into a toad there
Back from the dead again
Roll away the stone
Maybe find my head again
If I only make it home
Nothing’s ever simple
But you know when in Rome
At the candlelight vigil
Got a sigil made of bones
Back from the dead again
Roll away the stone (Roll away the stone)
Maybe find my head again
If I only make it home (If I only make it home)
Nothing’s ever simple
But you know when in Rome
At the candlelight vigil
Got a sigil made of bones
{Verse 2: Day Tripper
Boy, you f#cking with shamans
I’m unalike unapologetic uncommon
Transmutation circles drawn under my alter
I’m one with the true laws, laws of man make you falter
This my rock of Gibraltar my burning bush
Moses was burning kush
They saw the knowledge sprawl and they started burning books
But the true and living had it all memorized
So we energize rise over the wicked’s enterprise synergized
Tablets hold my signature stamped with my sigil
Make a demon look so miniature
Remember the mirror everything’s all a reflection
Look at yourself if they treating you less than
And extend, invest in time and resource to each course
Walk the path a straight line with no detour to keep your sanity
They gon claim you insane because all of their vanity
Can’t explain spiritual planes we remain…
Back from the dead again
Roll away the stone
Maybe find my head again
If I only make it home
Nothing’s ever simple
But you know when in Rome
At the candlelight vigil
Got a sigil made of bones
Back from the dead again
Roll away the stone (Roll away the stone)
Maybe find my head again
If I only make it home (If I only make it home)
Nothing’s ever simple
But you know when in Rome
At the candlelight vigil
Got a sigil made of bones
The very language of magic
Seems to be talking as much about writing or art as it is about supernatural events
The grimoire for example, the book of spells
Is simply a fancy way of saying grammar
In attempt to impress upon the public
With the case of artificial insanity that the mentally ill is not inhabited by the devil
I’m becoming what I summon
Rooted in the underground live from the dungeon
Craft the blueprint making something out of nothing
Hit the kitchen whipping cooking up visions in a cauldron
Merging with the elements I show you how do it
Purging testaments on the page that turn lucid
My grammar is a grimoire I spell cast the music
You exist as a memoir testing the undisputed
Black magick with Black Sabbath
The black atlas balancing actions on its axis
You all smokin’ and mirrors I’m smoking on that cabbage
So you can’t tell me sh#t when my sh#t is telepathic
Converging poltergeist light traversing through the tv
Merging with the static ghostwriting with a Ouija
Source of sorcery sorting rhetoric of the mystics
To rearrange dimensions like Dr. Strange and shift it
And I believe that this is why an artist or writer
Is the closest thing in the contemporary world
That you are likely to seek to a shaman
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Nerves Baddington Lyrics – Gibraltar stones