Текст песни

Who poetry help?
hm

I am a convict
Whose thoughts and feelings
And reality of life
Put behind bars
And pain
Is the blood
That runs through my vein
Which needs to be flushed

My heart is burning
With a loaded riffle
Living in my intestine
But my tongue is too weak
To spit fire

I am the shadow of the kid
Who spend his days on the street
To sell bread,
Just to fill his stomach before bed
Cus his parents’ daily stress
Is not enough to give his his daily bread

And I am the reflection of a young girl
Who is a cliché of her mama’s shestory
I mean Miss-tory (Mystery)
As her ability to spread bread
And spread bed
And be quiet
Makes her the best

I am pregnant of the untold story
Of my country
The glories covered by mysteries
The giant beneath the soil
The art that we abort
And the bright light that we put off

And I am the caged tongue of the lover boy
Whose poetic license is to drive her crazy
Fill her heart with joy
And makes her keep craving
For more

And how do I resolve this botheration of mine
The pain that runs my mind
Cus I am a warrior
Without gun
A preacher with no alter
A praise singer without guitar
A griot with no village square
But countless stories to tell


But I guess
I've found
Rhythm and rhyme
Honey in lines
Gong and drum
Hidden in words
Bullet and gun
With pinch of pun

I have been a prisoner for long
And it's high time I uncuffed
My tongue
And Poetry, is my freedom

Ṣebi
kalẹ yẹ oto dáyé
Lati fi gégé ọba aládé
L'ọrọ tin fela láàfin Olodumare
Ọrọ nii dani kòtò dajọ
Ewì ni ìdá àwọn asẹgun lalede òrun
Síwájú òsùmàrè,
ẹwà ama bẹ nínú ọrọ ọmọ ènìyàn

(well,
Before the existence of human
Pen was a royal king
Word was enjoying in God's palace
Word make man before making judgement
Poem is the sword of conquerors in heaven
before rainbow)
beauty lived in the tongue of man

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