[Huh, someone's broadcasting a rhythm. Dirk immediately latches onto it. It's a familiar kind of rhythm, the sort he might listen to at home. The mixing feels right too, natural. So there's really only one thing to do.
Drop some sweet rhymes. Telepathically, of course.]
Voices, Telepathic words, makin' our choices. Callin' to the herd, quiet rejoices, Movin' little bird, now we toys is.
Rhythm, Changin' our thoughts with 'em, We shift the logarithm, As if we sippin' zythum.
Flow, Don't let yourself go, Find your own say-so Can't say 'yes' without 'no.'
Song, Help us come along, Division bell's a gong, Is it right or wrong?
Voices, rhythm, flow, song. Choices, with 'em, go, wrong.
three
Drop some sweet rhymes. Telepathically, of course.]
Voices,
Telepathic words, makin' our choices.
Callin' to the herd, quiet rejoices,
Movin' little bird, now we toys is.
Rhythm,
Changin' our thoughts with 'em,
We shift the logarithm,
As if we sippin' zythum.
Flow,
Don't let yourself go,
Find your own say-so
Can't say 'yes' without 'no.'
Song,
Help us come along,
Division bell's a gong,
Is it right or wrong?
Voices, rhythm, flow, song.
Choices, with 'em, go, wrong.