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"Six Folds And A Throw" EP

by Airborne Mark

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1.
In a Leafy Branch Lyrics By Airborne Mark With the sun’s short winter walk I almost finished the piece on the wall Since morning despite the pitiless cold, I’d been restlessly trying to capture my heart’s burning load Forlorn lines and clogging paint were not enough to get me warm So when numb fingers could dance spontaneously on caps no more I popped on headphones with loves songs for the broken hearted and hit the road At home, over a 5 minute diner of bland cuscus and tinned Marcel I imagined you sitting across - smiling If you were here, I would treat you be a masterly seasoned sea bass with rocket pesto Table bejewelled with lit candles and origami serviettes instead of these markers sandwiched between sketchpads, Graphotism and VNA Indeed it never felt so wrong with Winter Song trickling out on and on repeat This HQ is bursting with so much emotion yet glaringly devoid of you being here Can’t take you off my mind Like you were a kite trapped in a leafy branch Can’t forget those sparkling eyes Like a homesick sojourner navigating by the stars So come and shine into my life from wherever you are But the more I follow, you’re still so afar I lost myself in daubing ice cold Parisian blue The canvas steadily drank its watery swatches as I brushed you off my attention till the setting moon I puffed and huffed on the freshly painted clouds till my cheeks turned traffic red A watched pot never boils speaking of which I stretched out with a loud pop in my stiff neck and went for a well deserved coffee break Half-way through the chipped cup In a mix of emotions I came up with this ardent rap Before forgetting I wrote it with my ring finger in sugar I had sprinkled across the table top Because you sweeten up my life yet it’s a fleeting hope Soon I transferred to the dog-eared journal as the couplets like birth pangs kept coming I tried to cage them like a pair of yellow-tailed black cockatoos Same as with painting, perfecting verses did not help too As the pile of crunched pages kept steadily mounting No matter how much I tried to blunt that knife-like loneliness I only found out that my heart was twice as pounding Can’t take you off my mind Like you were a kite trapped in a leafy branch Can’t forget those sparkling eyes Like a homesick sojourner navigating by the stars So come and shine into my life from wherever you are But the more I follow, you’re still so afar
2.
A.I.R 05:17
A.I.R Lyrics By Airborne Mark They say relentlessly my heaven-sent accent is spot on wacky They keep mispronouncing my name Arguably, its Google-ability is not as fantastic Anyway, I’m simply cracka-lacking painstakingly tracking exciting words to make this beat pumping. So now I’m explicitly stamping my mark with the panache of a post office clerk sending airmail Do I really need to spell the name out over PA? Anyhow, all aboard, this flight is bound to highly entertain I’m airborne, not urban. Though indeed I fly with supremacy on and above the street My identity is not in faking the immaculate accents of BBC Nor in a twang of a born and bread LDN rapper, hailing from south, west, east or north To spare you all those nonsense postcode wars, I’m always heaven wards Witness the crown toppling take off . Blast off. My tongue more cutting edge that a Spitfire’s Propeller My cranium hotter than a burner at full throttle Ever increasing uplifting vocab like Phileas Fogg’s hot air balloon In 80 slips of my tongue I brave turbulences and travel across galaxies I’m a sunset contrail conductor You’re right, by no means I have this earthly X factor But there’s more to Airborne Mark though My identity is written within Alfa and Omega as I’m born from Above Give me A Give me I Give me R Airborne Mark carried through the air with a plane-load of Jester’s love I’m not a turtledove, a pigeon nor a seagull I’m equal to the eagle Aviating with the aptitude excelling that of Porco Rosso, Pirx and Biggles One and only true ace in the place Stay aground amazed as I loop the loop with tremendous grace Off the face of the planet, with a pull, up, up and away Running on the common Scribbling on the blue sky with the finesse of a billowing tail More in a manner of a kite than a bird or a plane To those mind boggling linguistics aerobatics crowds cant help but react Let alone to the goggles round my neck, a fluttering scarf What’s on earth with launching off the stage all that paper-craft? I’m Abso-Jolly-Lutely distinctive, I soar sunwards unlike the ostrich and the penguin Definitely not with handmade wings of a fistful of feathers and a dollop of glue Highly innovative at all times yet with the conspicuous absence of Icarus-esque doom
3.
Jelly Beans 04:02
Jelly Beans Lyrics By Airborne Mark Long before the alarm clock mercilessly rang I’d woken up with a distaste in my mouth After I scoffed bowelfuls of porridge and spruced myself up I reluctantly faced yet another arduous task Not that I hold anything against a lively class Some unruly individuals goofing about Or odd food fight at lunchtime Or even perhaps an occasional mayhem at playtime Quite the opposite I’d rather relish it most of the time Yet there is this uneasiness about Since there is literally no recollection of me harbouring a dream of being a teacher But now I’m standing by the interactive white board Nervously clenching the register As time is irrevocably up, the sweat is trickling by the bucket loads down my spine Out of the blue, the playground bell tolls out a sobering shockwave that chills my spine Panic rushes in as little shuffling feet reach the corridors of Key Stage One Bail out for life or better duck for cover as in air raid But there’s no time As I’m about to lock myself away in a PE cupboard with hearty provisions of Jelly Beans to binge on till home time Bright and breezy, carefree five year olds have already occupied the carpet space in the twinkling of an eye Heartfelt “Hello Mister C” in a string of amusing variations swiftly reverberates in the class And I crack open and I’m won over at least for a while. No longer a split personality Airborne Mark on and above the streets Now in complete peace with Mister C nurturing these primary school kids How awesome to finally live a life which is totally wholesome As long as I know who I am, even more so everybody around me blossoms Many morning registers later Each child not a tick yet a rough diamond with a promise ahead Now I see them clearly struggle with challenges of a learning curve We share daily tears, joy and sweat With time brilliance glints off dazzlingly from within their depth However more often than not I’d rather be somewhere else In a galaxy far far away like priming a canvas or laying down a verse Nevertheless in this dark hour, encumbered under piles of marking Mustn’t I overlook this germinating seed Hey “Mister C” water it watchfully with words of encouragement See it a budding flower of significance to live No longer a split personality Airborne Mark on and above the streets Now in complete peace with Mister C nurturing these primary school kids How awesome to finally live a life which is totally wholesome
4.
Carry On 04:42
CARRY ON Lyrics By Airborne Mark Nowadays my neck aches more than right hand while painting I’m craning it constantly, consumed by anxiety Actually I’d be safer doing again night back jumps rather than being hassled by fame driven Tony Hawk proskaters and Marc Ecko getting-up writers in broad daylight on the Southbank Respect is not the aim of the game anymore Skate-parks, halls of fame and basket-ball courts used to be safe havens Breakers, graff writers and BMX riders were getting along much more together Not that there were no hairy dust-ups Battles were critical, they rose the bar up But why is it more likely today to exchange knife blows with strangers than high fives? Those kids drive me crazy They make me write these earnest songs It's them out on the streets not in the classroom that makes me carry on x2 Rappers pursue blindly enslaving record deals Get me on stage ASAP Preferably, the attitude of a humble busy-bee is not as necessary Give me the honey, I’m in for accolade, alloy rims and lassies No wonder, records and videos reflect those insecurities No thank you, long ago I turned off this uninspiring music TV of puffed up egos Clad with bells and whistles of a never satisfied soul. Dogged by white elephants to plug whistling hollows with And the list goes on And the list goes on Those kids drive me crazy … x2 Having seen much, my deep concern is for the street Firstly, I think of kids So the abundant life I live I put proudly on a candle stick I back it up with work of great quality Elevating lines of aerosol artistry narrated with rhyming words of hope and increase As youngsters aspire to what they see and hear This is what I’m determined to fuel the streets with Either as Airborne Mark, thePilot or Mister C Those kids drive me crazy … x2
5.
Wind / Vapour / Dew / Frost Lyrics By Airborne Mark I saw you passing by swiftly like a wind-swept evening cloud Actually, you were more like a swallow taking off from a rest on a tree branch I pondered what possibly could’ve upped the beat of such a fragile heart Because of the breeze sweeping hair over your face I think I must’ve misread that fright, quite, as I’m certain till today There was a sparkle welling up in the corner of your eye Which by the way eclipsed that traffic light You saw me not, I froze for hours and now was abruptly brought to the ground Honking cacophony kick-started me on “It’s green mate!” shouted angrily a stubbly face in a sleek cabriolet “Move along” Not entirely awake I collected my disarrayed thoughts Too many yards later, I turned round to find you in crowds flooding that bus stop But in a rut of heavy traffic I was involuntarily swept along with the flow And I didn’t see either which double decker you briskly hopped on Wind, vapour is all that you are Dew, frost in the palm of my hand For a happily ever after ending Let’s open this dream with a mere chat Will you ever stop? Will you ever turn round? X 2 Few weeks later I was on a school outing to an amusement park First tickles of the summer sun made it almost perfect apart from me being somewhat frantic Eyes all around, hand in hand with cheeky Mickey Who would NOT follow any rules Who would NOT be bribed with extra play time Instead he would eagerly break out trying to score a homerun Then you sparkled dazzlingly, with the exhilaration of a treasure hunter I fished out skilfully those diamond eyes from the bustling mass Options supersonically raced through my mind Had to forfeit it all of course as there was no choice at all Stuck right there with the class shadowing behind my back Then It struck me Attention Year 1! We will go on the teapots in a while Not to lose you again we followed the ripe cherry balloon you just bought Round the corner by River Rapids You suddenly stopped, so we stopped Kids cheered but you moved, we followed on and the kids booed Another corner, another unscheduled Stop. Emergency here, sick Lourdes and Ayoub with a nosebleed Later on, slightly delayed we finally caught up Fixated on the heart shaped balloon, I’ll chat you up in the queue for a coffee one afternoon Hopefully soon Another corner, negotiating a candy floss cart Finally out of the leafy alley into a sardine-packed square Too late. I lost you right there. There was only one you but millions of selfsame red balloons bobbing in the air Wind, vapour is all that you are Dew, frost in the palm of my hand For a happily ever after ending Let’s open this dream with a mere chat Will you ever stop? Will you ever turn round? X 2
6.
The Life You Can’t See Lyrics By Airborne Mark Immaculately creased trousers, a stripped tie and smart shoes I collect thoughts against my tingling stomach Seconds away form nine in the mo…still long hours before the wrap up in the afternoon Buzzing kids fill in the classroom Carpet time a hullabaloo for starters, urchins told off “Cease that football cards barter” Angels with zipped lips and hands in laps, prodigies scanning eye catching displays and colourful maps At the back spoilt brats noisily elbowing each other, at the front a mousy nipper sobbing after his working two jobs mother Enough, I sound the tambourine Thinking caps on, listening ears I’m the captain of this cloud-fairing ship Taking them to new highs and patiently revisiting the islands to which we’ve already been Out of the blue, a silver cloud’s passing by, I catch a cursory glimpse of my reflection in it and there he is, the other mark, the airborne one I crack a smile, wave, he mirrors the kindness back then the northerly wind carries away his shout As we land I see the kids off, they run happily into their parents’ arms, carelessly dropping their new found treasures on the ground Waving zany Mister C goodbye, they think he lives in the book corner Eating plasticine for dinner, having a whale of time with toys they’re only allowed in Golden Time Tomorrow where we finished the journey we’ll simply pick up Meanwhile, I fold the tie away and scoot off to yet another open mic… To rap my soul out You think you know me but you really don’t You look at my life but this book with its cover doesn’t fit your pigeonhole No wonder it’s a flying manual and an inexhaustible treasure trove of paper planes folds You think you know me but you really don’t You look at my life but this book with its cover doesn’t fit your pigeonhole No wonder it’s a kite building compendium And another a bulky treasure trove of paper planes folds At the increasing sound of a drum roll, I launch myself sprightly onto the deck Probing spotlight dazzles me uneasy, barely do I open my mouth Two thirds of the audience already sneer at me The remaining fraction is on a toilet break or at the bar What’s the point of bearing my soul to a crowd? I came down with some heartfelt spoken word, to them it’s clearly a stand up Mobiles out and recording this square peg in a round hole Lo and behold, an English rapping Pole Telling whimsical stories of soaring kites, of being a dictionary mole and a scooter buff “He’s a primary school teacher, right!” Indeed a grand gag. We’re all in stitches “Give us a break” You must be a shrewd east European plumber at best If they had any rotten tomatoes or eggs, they would definitely hurl them right now “He’s completely safe behind those aviation goggles anyway” they would justify If I took that derision, I’d hardly elevate to my apt name I‘m so at home with myself, for there’s more heaven than earth I wish you had guts to boldly live your dreams Therefore, especially for you I wholeheartedly throw those paper planes You think you know me but you really don’t You look at my life but this book with its cover doesn’t fit your pigeonhole No wonder it’s a flying manual and an inexhaustible treasure trove of paper planes folds You think you know me but you really don’t You look at my life but this book with its cover doesn’t fit your pigeonhole No wonder it’s a kite building compendium And another treasure trove of paper planes folds
7.
A.I.R Lyrics By Airborne Mark They say relentlessly my heaven-sent accent is spot on wacky They keep mispronouncing my name Arguably, its Google-ability is not as fantastic Anyway, I’m simply cracka-lacking painstakingly tracking exciting words to make this beat pumping. So now I’m explicitly stamping my mark with the panache of a post office clerk sending airmail Do I really need to spell the name out over PA? Anyhow, all aboard, this flight is bound to highly entertain I’m airborne, not urban. Though indeed I fly with supremacy on and above the street My identity is not in faking the immaculate accents of BBC Nor in a twang of a born and bread LDN rapper, hailing from south, west, east or north To spare you all those nonsense postcode wars, I’m always heaven wards Witness the crown toppling take off . Blast off. My tongue more cutting edge that a Spitfire’s Propeller My cranium hotter than a burner at full throttle Ever increasing uplifting vocab like Phileas Fogg’s hot air balloon In 80 slips of my tongue I brave turbulences and travel across galaxies I’m a sunset contrail conductor You’re right, by no means I have this earthly X factor But there’s more to Airborne Mark though My identity is written within Alfa and Omega as I’m born from Above Give me A Give me I Give me R Airborne Mark carried through the air with a plane-load of Jester’s love I’m not a turtledove, a pigeon nor a seagull I’m equal to the eagle Aviating with the aptitude excelling that of Porco Rosso, Pirx and Biggles One and only true ace in the place Stay aground amazed as I loop the loop with tremendous grace Off the face of the planet, with a pull, up, up and away Running on the common Scribbling on the blue sky with the finesse of a billowing tail More in a manner of a kite than a bird or a plane To those mind boggling linguistics aerobatics crowds cant help but react Let alone to the goggles round my neck, a fluttering scarf What’s on earth with launching off the stage all that paper-craft? I’m Abso-Jolly-Lutely distinctive, I soar sunwards unlike the ostrich and the penguin Definitely not with handmade wings of a fistful of feathers and a dollop of glue Highly innovative at all times yet with the conspicuous absence of Icarus-esque doom Give me A Give me I Give me R Airborne Mark carried through the air with a plane-load of Jester’s love

about

Debut EP - written by Airborne Mark, composed and produced by B Szczesny.

“Six Folds and a Throw” EP

By day a primary school teacher, by night a rapper and a graffiti artist in between; welcome to the where-clouds-abound world of Airborne Mark. At the sunset of 17th September 2010 “Six Folds and a Throw” EP finally touches the ground. Airborne Mark, of a quirky heaven-sent accent fame, teamed up with an acclaimed progressive electronic producer, B Szczesny (Brennnessel Netlabel) to create a uniquely sounding debut EP. From a minimal yet effervescent bass line to heavily synthesised harmonies dressed up in a spoken-word-esque narrative, “Six Folds and a Throw” takes you aboard a whimsical paper plane jetlag-free flight through the world of eclectic exploits.

Ladies and Gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. Fasten your seat-belts, we are ready for the take off.

credits

released September 17, 2010

Airborne Mark, B Szczesny

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Airborne Mark London, UK

Graffiti artist by day, rapper by night. My heart is an origami cloud...

Singing Pictures & Painting Songs for Eternity and Beyond...

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