In echoes of Kingston’s streets, the beat’s delay,
Dub’s rhythm lingers, in a mesmerizing sway.
A bassline, slow, like a river’s gentle flow,
Time stretches out, in a musical tableau.

Delay becomes its essence, in this sonic realm,
Where echoes dance, in a hypnotic helm.
The delay of dub, a journey through time,
A sonic pilgrimage, in its sublime chime.

In echoes and reverbs, its essence unfurls,
A delay in rhythm, where magic swirls.
So let the music play, in its own sweet time,
For in the delay of dub, we find the sublime.