[Word added for clarity]

Inflorescent:
Finally safe; Running away from tons of iron
I'm tired of these constraints
Bound by the ways of old; my whole road's been paved with,
Status quo, fold to the cut, do not strut against the grain, so,
Going from in to out has made me sane
I played the waiting game inside that crowded prison, ‘til the crowd became
Too large and untamed for guards to manage,
Too dense and many to see who moves throughout,
Too loud and frantic; the sound surrounds and drowns the scrambling,
Allows an escape from bounds around the ground we stand in,
When we skate out under the panic, in space, a couple of phantoms…

Spitnautical:
Into new spaces where our true faces reflect out
Set our own path considered after we smash the mirror,
Cause that shit differs, from inward inspections, that simmered in correction and ejected

Inflorescent:
What’s next?

Spitnautical:
Head to the nearest planet we heard of,
With atmosphere that can nurture and sustenance to preserve us,
Plus we know this land’s protected and nestled inside a solar system,
[Where] no one has permission to go in any condition,
If it ain’t interstellar, our former leaders let it grow to fruition, even if it never closes the distance,
But we just broke with tradition, situation is clear:
If we hid in your sphere there’s no fear of recapture here

Inflorescent:
The past is to be defeated;

Spitnautical:
The future’s to be attained;

Inflorescent:
We saddle what’s in between them,

Spitnautical:
To break loose of the frame

Inflorescent:
Old patterns we shatter and leave them

Spitnautical:
Won’t submit to restrictions or anything that inhibits bringing vision to existence


Inflorescent:
My passages transmitted from systems off the atlas
They pass from our position and they stab into the blackness
They’re passin' through what's captured through curved reflected glass, which
Points at the zenith, just trying to see us
We may be resting for now,
But we will exit the house soon,
Get to the vessel and press on the pedal and zoom
To a new home,
The one that you own,
A green and blue stone,
This signal is proof you were never alone

…

Inflorescent:
Look through the curtains, I think I just heard someone
I’m buggin’, those motherfuckers might’ve stuck with us a bug or something,
‘Cause we left nothing that could be used to hunt us;
Any trace of us is flushed, scrubbed, or combusted and touched up, what the fuck?
Did the one other we trusted betray us or go say something to undercovers?

Spitnautical:
Doesn’t matter, no time for wondering--

Inflorescent:
Footsteps are doubling, boot straps are buckling, we’re trapped--

Spitnautical:
But they’re not busting in…

Inflorescent:
Oh fuck, you’re right, they might be afraid to rush in, and strike -- something isn’t right
They wouldn’t hold back like this with no motive

Spitnautical:
They probably think we’re armed and are waiting for backups to overwhelm and oppose us
In that case, we only got a moment to focus before this blows up in our faces
We got time can’t waste it and if we jet they’ll chase, so we need to make some separation

Inflorescent:
I could make some makeshift escape shit to take eyes away as we break and race to the ship
In the basement there’s leftover fuel, so let’s take it upstairs and go douse the whole house with it
Place the couch in the way of the door where they’d break in
The forest round the sides is so packed, and the route to go past the house is in the back,
And that means to catch us they need to run up inside,
And if they try then those motherfuckers’ll fry
So untie that rag, grab the matches from the cabinet, dip the fabric in gas and attach it,
Straight to the container, and let that shit hang in the remainder
Strike a match against the strip to make it light up;
Put the fire right up to that shit till flame gets drastic
This place was great, but it no longer serves us, so hurl that shit backwards and dash through the backwoods like (BOOM)

Spitnautical:
Peel through the trees, can already see the smoke’s risen through the leaves
The rhythm of my sprint riffs in tandem
With the crackle of the embers of restrictive conditions that I leave
Hope they choke on the remnants, a growing black smog suspended,
The last second ever I’m depending on another in our path to independence
It don’t work, get to the ship and let’s end this

Inflorescent:
Yo wait hold up,
That same motherfucker who gave the safehouse to us,
Was [the] same one who gave us the whip,
And any vessel gives identifiers when connecting with anything wireless
That shit could be an easy way to spy on us,
And after what just happened, we have reason to think
They got exact pins applicable to pinch us after we slide,
Upon leaving it’ll only be a matter of time

Spitnautical:
Well then can we turn that shit off?

Inflorescent:
Well, we could switch off all communication, but we’d have to settle for whatever information’s pre-loaded on the ship, and we don’t know how old it is
It could be centuries behind, and that shit will leave us essentially blind to how much their weapons progressed over time;
We need to know what lies beyond what could be enemy lines

Spitnautical:
Well we don’t have any other option,
So cut the shit off and we’ll deal with the consequence
When the time comes to cross that bridge,
But for now let’s focus on reaching our deliverance
The ship is now in vision with vines hanging tight to its side,
The light of the mayhem left behind is eclipsed by close-knit forest
That contorts and slips outta sight when we board the ship,
We’re typing your coordinates, pointing us towards it and
Lifting off from subordinance, into the great enormous expanse…
So we rupture and leave,
Destruction can be productive of new conditions,
Outcomes can rise up above the ones that we live in,
And it can make a life where we can breathe….