You can't turn off the building from here; you have to shut down the whole grid.

I can't see no one, where's the Malis? Now I gotta hide this blade from the 'rales When I back this blade, wallahi The hearts get beat like they just saw jihadi

[…] over head the dismal hiss Of fiery Darts in flaming volies flew,

Ice Cold Daydreambastes the bayou funk of the Meters in swirling psychedelia, whileSweet Thang,a swampy blues cowritten with his dad, sounds like something from Dr. John'sNight Tripper" phase.