(Ladies & gentleman, greetings and salutations). I’d like to welcome you, in the corner of my mind. Sit back, relax, have a seat and recline. May I take your coat, you can leave your shoes on it’s fine. I’d like to say, hey thanks, I appreciate you taking the time. Would you like a cup of coffee or a glass of cheap red wine? Hang out on the balcony, on the rooftop in the sunshine. Spit rhymes in the kitchen, drink gin and tonic. Old vinyl’s crackle, while we’re smoking the chronic. We can listen to more music, I can draw you a portrait. Sit here in silence, or discuss a few topics. Talk about your problems, I’ll give you my honest opinion. Heart to heart, conversation, small talk, observation. Please make yourself at home, pardon me, for the mess. Feel free to roam, from room to room, please be my guest. I’ll try to remain a polite host, for the evening. Hope, your time was pleasant, from the greeting, up to when you’re leaving. Thanks for listening, he’s Beatahoe and I’m Remission. Representing, Montreal to Seven Islands. Greetings, good morning and good evening. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Beat Mission !!! This is the Beat Mission !!! This is the Beat Mission !!! (Ladies & gentleman, greetings and salutations).

I got a caffeine high, and I can’t sit still. I got an empty stomach, in the chesterfield. I got an ashtray, that’s filling up quick. I got deep pockets, full of bad habits. I got markings on the mind, we age like cheap red wine. I’m melting in the sunshine, feeling fine. Slime and reason, we’re all blind to the demons. Find that we all have, a closet of skeletons. The sun beats down on my skull. (On my skull). And we’re all here just waiting for the downfall. Burnt light bulbs, in the back alleys of Montreal. I got friends who skateboard, and some who play b-ball. Going through withdrawal, with eyes that are bloodshot. Butter knives, resting on the stove top. Spot me on the balcony or on the rooftop. Hear me singing my poetry, or kicking a beatbox From the Monkland strip,to Seven Islands and the crack spot. It’s what I am, it’s what I have and it’s what I got. I got a caffeine high, and I can’t sit still. I got an empty stomach, in the chesterfield. I got an ashtray, that’s filling up quick. I got deep pockets, full of bad habits. It’s what I got ... and I will never stop. I got a few words, that’s all I have to offer. I know it’s not a lot, but there’s always coffee, cream and sugar. Hip hop, creeping from the speakers. Two brothers chilling together, on the balcony for what felt like forever. French fries, and cheeseburgers, my blood is getting thicker. Pizza for dinner, espresso for supper. We loiter, and get drunk in the park. Our nights are way too bright, and our days remain dark. I got to spark the torch, and burn the bridges of the city. I got my friends and family, waiting for me in the country. I got a handful of memories, that will forever last. I got a nostalgic mind, always thinking of the past. Its what I got and I will never stop I got a caffeine high, and I can’t sit still. I got an empty stomach, in the chesterfield. I got an ashtray, that’s filling up quick. I got deep pockets, full of bad habits.

I’m gonna change, all that. I’m gonna, take it all back. I’m gonna change, all that. I’m gonna change all that. Living care free, but not carefully. Seems to be, getting the best of me. I consume without, thinking about the consequence. Ingest the toxins and increase the tolerance. Forgetfulness, careless, acting reckless. Alive I guess, but not living to its fullest. Motivation is low, when I am high. Crash and burn bellow, explode and collide. With this addiction, that makes it hard for me to breath. Procrastination, makes it hard for me to leave. Bad nutrition, Trans-fat, Cardiac Attack. But I’m gonna change all that. I’m gonna change, all that. I’m gonna, take it all back. I’m gonna change, all that. I’m gonna change all that. I never thought that this could be. I’m destroying the machinery of my own body. I pick my poison, alcohol, coffee or smoke. And brush everything off, as if it was a joke. Until I choke to death, and its too late. Shortness of breath, neural pruning, slow to activate. Digging my own grave, a ghost that didn’t do what he wanted. I got to change, or forever remain, haunted. I admit, I got to stop, I got to quit, all of these bad habits. It’s a fact, that I can’t take it back,. But I’m gonna change all that. I’m gonna change, all that. I’m gonna, take it all back. I’m gonna change, all that. I’m gonna change all that.

Nervous, painting madness on the canvas. Filled with sadness, living the true life of the artist. And the simple man, smashed the hourglass. In the palm of his hands, lies the sand of the past. Present and future, the light-bulbs flickers. Burn out a few days later, no more sparks and no more glitter. Cinder, in the ashes, of the fire Eyes of the beholder, stare behind lashes of desire. You see the world, you sit on the edge of the earth . Blank stare, in the dead space of the universe. Now what is it worth more than the sum of its parts. And you figure it out when it all, falls apart. and everything is gone, you’re here singing your song. You want to let go but, something is holding on. So strong, you’ve been living so wrong all along. Woke up one dawn, went from a millionaire to a vagabond. We’re all singing, the same, sad, songs. All day long, and on and on... We’re all singing, the same, sad, songs. All day long, and on and on... For ages, I've been spilling my guts on these pages. writing the poetry, the paragraphs and the phrases. In this little black book, of mine. Where my life is defined, in all of these rhymes. These are, and were, and will always be the best of times. memories are so far, behind, so hard to find. Impossible to remember, we’re blind. Searching, in every corner, of the mind. I get up too early, I go to bed too late. Always tired, coffee gets me wired until my hands shake. I see the visions of Remission, in the mirror’s reflection. The confusion, poisons, all of my decisions. The more that I walk, the more I see these tired eyes. Dark circles underneath, never lie. The more that I sit here, the more I notice everything. In my skin, shifting, staring out into oblivion. We’re all singing, the same, sad, songs. All day long, and on and on... We’re all singing, the same, sad, songs. All day long, and on and on...

Push the button, abort the mission. Forget about, all of your problems. Push the button, abort the mission. Start back, from the beginning. A monkey in a astronaut suit, launched into space. A tribute, to the human race. His face sits behind a visor, tiny eyes stare at the light. Suffocates, later, during his return flight. A new direction, through evolution. A few solutions, for the confused population. Elaborated topics, saturated optics. A calculated science, distorted by the static. Satellites in orbit, transmit, the information... Radio wave, reception, to abort the mission... Push the button, abort the mission. Forget about, all of your problems. Push the button, abort the mission. Start back, from the beginning. He sits in the cock pit, his breath is heavy. Ready, to blast off, into the galaxy. Curiosity, fills his lungs, his stomach is empty. The journey, has begun, into obscurity. Seconds are counted down, ten to zero. Once your feet, leave the ground, you feel, the vertigo. Slow sinking, in the seat, cold sweating clenching teeth. Bellow, the globe, is fading beneath. He swallows, another pounding heart beat, in his organism. The words are spoken, but the message is broken. The static in the transmission, distorts the communication. The voices, trying to tell him, to abort the mission. Push the button, abort the mission. Forget about, all of your problems. Push the button, abort the mission. Start back, from the beginning.

Dear, who ever it might concern. I am writing this, until the night that I return. A few words scribble in ink, but mean so much. Her perfume on the paper makes me, dream of her touch. But I'm coming back home, no more goodbyes. Grabbed my bags, I'm leaving under blue skies. Suitcase packed, black shoes and hat. Put on my sunglasses and I never looked back Finally I can rest these weary feet. That have been on the run, for so long. Its been so many years, since I’ve been here. Its clear, that I no longer belong. I gotta move on. I carried my baggage, from city to city. on the dirt roads and in the back alleys. Walking for kilometers, looking for a destination. Writing these letters, was the only solution. It all started, with the greeting. It all ended, with the valediction. Signed sincerely, yours truley, Remission.