You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas
Cos' turkeys just wanna hav fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
An every turkey has a Mum.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas,
Don't eat it, keep it alive,
It could be yu mate, an not on your plate
Say, Yo! Turkey I'm on your side.
I got lots of friends who are turkeys
An all of dem fear christmas time,
Take some Picts, Celts and Silures
And let them settle,
Then overrun them with Roman conquerors.
Remove the Romans after approximately 400 years
Add lots of Norman French to some
Angles, Saxons, Jutes and Vikings, then stir vigorously.
Mix some hot Chileans, cool Jamaicans, Dominicans,
Trinidadians and Bajans with some Ethiopians, Chinese,
TRANSCENDENT VALOUR! godlike Pow'r!
Lord of the dauntless breast, and stedfast mien!
Who, rob'd in majesty sublime,
Sat in thy eagle-wafted car,
And led the hardy sons of war,
With head erect, and eye serene,
Amidst the arrowy show'r;
When unsubdued, from clime to clime,
YOUNG AMMON taught exulting Fame
O'er earth's vast space to sound the glories of thy name.
Millions of babies watching the skies
Bellies swollen, with big round eyes
On Jessore Road--long bamboo huts
Noplace to shit but sand channel ruts
Millions of fathers in rain
Millions of mothers in pain
Millions of brothers in woe
Millions of sisters nowhere to go
You think you kill me with your hateness. You hate murderously; in blood, in humanity.
Your poison has no place in our society.
The venom that seeps from your mouth have always been heard but will not pierce through and kill me.
Is it faith or fear? Is it your submission to a deity or one to your community?
Are you listening to the valid speech of god or the invalid words of your closest enemies......those opportunists, tearing your daughters. Those women with compassion, resilience, love and ambition.
Long-long ago, as the ballad recalls,
In the castle with ivy woven in walls,
Under dark velvet skies, in the eye of the Moon
With sweet-scented fragrance blue roses bloomed.
Dare not to come close to the sharp spikes of white
For vermilion potion is kept in inside.
In those azure bushes, with hearts in a hand
A couple of lovers had found their end.
This story is ancient, as old as can be,
But the roses bore it for you and for me...
Awake is the day, and I exist
Therein aloof life’s fleeting hours
Whose currents float me out of bed,
My brick mouth blank, riding mundane streams.
So what is the day if we dream through the night?
Its leather vines wrap but go unfelt on skin.
Some toss, others snore, all coated in black,
While I scour the walls for a lick of dread.
He began to grieve something he hadn’t lost
The melancholy in his eyes was haunting,
They said so much that he didn’t need to speak for her to see it coming
With scars tattooed on their Souls
Yearning, reaching out