Yo, you ever... go outside at night, look up into the sky, into the big, immense sky and think to yourself, that's a big sky!
Like an inkwell...
In a city that's been waiting to blow since big butts and teen spirit
Many make music, few can hear it, secluded in the upper left
Dominantly grey-shaded skies every other day, sorta like the bay
Just a little bit wetter, and cold in the winter
Proximity to water make the soul a little gentler
Out-of-towners don't be knowin' about the best-kept
Ain't nothing better than the summer in the Northwest
Microphone check 1-206
Buddha smoke, buddha smoke, can I get a quick fix to lift
This eye to the level of needle in the sky
Lookin' over the sound against the shores of the suicide capital
Bust the magical dust, grammatically adjust the satellite
What makes Seattle tight? The fruits have been ripe in spite of all the bull
And last second changes of plans like audibles
And prodigal sons, whose motto is "run whenever possible"
Watch Mr. Officer shoot before he aims
And claims self-defense in the name of the citizenry
SPD's spread the city like an STD
I'm rollin', Rainier bumpin', let's get free
While the people sleep, I must speak 'til they wake
Now let me push my pen to create