from my little spot on the great divide... feelings?
WELCOME HOME, FOREIGN NATIVE:
TO THE JUNGLE (The Gold Coast)
I have learned to do strange things in my wanderings
Now I come back to do stranger things yet
You don’t have to understand…a stranger in the land of my birth…
A foreign native…old is new, new is old…past and present are one
Aggregate dhis and dhat… no additives no preservatives, sell by date not applicable…
All natural PURE & FRESH……………………………………. ITAL ROOTS
Addition and subtraction… multiplication and long division…
Deep memories yes… dreams and nightmares…I tried yet could not forget…
So eat your food, pray to your gods and let me be
Speak your language and we can learn to luv one another again
Yet I sing my songs still
You ask me how can a blind man write?
And I tell you that a man does not always need eyes to see
I come full circle to receive my blessings and take back my traditions
You hide behind the blessings of your gods while you condemn mine…
RRIP!!!! Really Really Important People….so you think
But you are only self important bastards…
Learning big words…but do you understand them?
Mirror mirror on the wall who knows the most irrelevant big words
Don Dadda Idi Amin… Mugabi… Muammar Mubarak Mobutu Bokassa? Who next?
Yet I sing my songs still
GI Joe…begat Col. Sanders…
AK 47s for Big Mac and Big guns
Coca leaves with imperial designs
Blue jeans and recycled toilet paper
Jesus Christ supastar married in Canaan.. Vegas style
East west north and south pole all in one
Massive confusion…bamboo revolution
Fu Manchu Ho Chi Minh Pancho Villa Jojo Bojangles
Chinese firecrackers… Juju beans
Read your good book cos the end is near..
Do you believe what you read? your prayers flutter in your polluted winds
Your leaders can’t lead…the lies are catching up to them
$$$ sign means nuthin just a noose around your neck
Yet I sing my songs still
I have learned to do strange things in my wanderings
Now I come back to do stranger things yet
You don’t have to understand…a stranger in the land of my birth…
A foreign native…old is new, new is old…past and present are one..
Yet I sing my songs still
It’s a dinner party but when u show up u realize u are the forgotten guest
Excuses why u did not receive ur invite
There is no place setting with ur name on it…
Space has to be made by urself but
Nobody is willing to help for fear that u might take their place
Better yet u have to find space... what to do but make some room
Careful lest u become a victim…u are already the outsider looking in
Patience my friend but time does not stand still…all in it’s right season…
So what next? do u stay for dinner or do u say to hell…as hell is for heroes!
Yet I sing my songs still
