Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-28428152-20180409195158

Whoah, 'bout get political up in this bitch

Turtles tap the tempo

They’re Monks of Music

Their beats hits the crowd

Boom, badda-boom tisk

Like great sailing ships

They sail the waves of sound

Wailing sorrows and joy

And fall to the cobblestone ground

Why do these sounds fill the air?

The air so thick it’s cuttable

No one has got their senses

All they do is dance the shuffle

The turtles grow dim

Fading into black

The tempo rises

The dancers fight back

Room divided by interest

Nobody hears quite the same noise

Clawing away each other’s skin

Victims now to the turtles’ ploys 