Gunk Boi - Mangchi

He sits in his room when the river turns grey

Spits on the tombs, what the other one say

A misfit, not a goon, from the country of rice

A slice would be nice, wants a piece of the prize

He sits in his room when the river turns red

Too pissed at the tombs from the voices of dead

They talk in his sleep, they say it’s better in there

Retreat to dimensions with the ghost that don’t care

He sits in his room where the river turns blue

Notice that changeable played for a new

Clarity of thinking, he was content with himself

Tired of the whippings inflicted to self