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1. |
Well and Good
04:31
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2. |
Written In the Sky
04:04
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3. |
Making America Great
04:35
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From the first drop of a slave's blood spilled on American soil
To the first chains fashioned to break the will of an intelligent voice
From the first English phrase spoken, the first African name forgotten
Traded in for the first batch of tobacco, bag of sugar or bale of cotton
From the first runaways that escaped and dared to be free
To the first organised revolutionaries who dared to believe
The first rebellious uprisings and burning plantations
The first gunshots at the first lynching on the first day after emancipation
No more, my Lord
No more, my Lord
From the first guitar string plucked to play the first chord of the blues
The first dance floor struck hard by the first tap dancer's shoes
The first jazz musician to pick up his first sax
The first DJ to manipulate the first record to be scratched
The first challenge to legislation, the first attempt at integration
The first realisation that education was indeed the key to your salvation
The first black doctors, black lawyers, black teachers, black preachers
Black leaders who made a difference for others to start achieving
The first night Martin Luther King dreamed, the first book Malcolm X reads, Muhammad Ali's first punch, Michael Jordan's first dunk, Billie Holiday sings her first note, Richard Pryor tells his first joke, Maya Angelou writes her first poem overflowing with her first hope
No more, my Lord
No more, my Lord
Look into an eternity of mirrors and tell me what you see
Past triumphs and failures, present concerns and future needs
Look into an eternity of visions and tell me what can you conceive?
That one day a black man could ever compete and reach the presidency?
Could a nation that was essentially established on stolen land,
built with stolen labour and enriched by broken hands,
entrenched with racism since its history books began,
move beyond its past position and seek recognition for a new command?
So from that first drop of blood spilled many centuries ago,
a seed was planted in them hills that one day would flower and would grow
Many firsts have been concealed through many tears and many woes
the chapters that truly made America great were from its book of stories never told.
No more, my Lord
No more, my Lord
Lord I'll never turn back no more
No more
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4. |
Picture Perfect
03:05
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Pick a perfect picture
And I'll show you lines that can divide
The soft focus smoothing over
The imperfections that we hide
Segregation of the soul
One that designates our roles
As pre-determined curtains drop
Exposing all for show
Post a picture perfect
Then speak of its delights
Speak of the harmless hidden treasures
Speak of the small-print that denies
That crimes can go unwritten
Absurdly blurring fact & fiction
This canvas frame’s no longer fitting
And views can change in different lights
For what else is money?
Except for paper with pictures
Metal with inscriptions
Upon which we base convictions
And what else can we call prestige?
Except another person's creed
That stacks one man's certain need
Against another’s lurking greed
And how else would you view fame?
Except for well-controlled acclaim
Well-positioned to place with products
And well-conditioned to play the game
And what of those who see the illusion?
And recognise its sweet perfume
Are they not consumed by self-delusion?
Or merely add to the confusion?
For if you pick a perfect picture
I'll show you lines that can divide
A gentle focus smoothing over
The imperfections that we hide
Segregation of the soul
One that designates our roles
For when the curtain drops…. Nothing stops
For on must go the show
On must go the show
Pick a perfect picture
And I'll show you lines that can divide
Post a picture perfect
Then speak of its delights
Go down
Go down
In my flower yard
Go down
And perhaps
You may find
Find him there
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Fold Leeds, UK
Leeds UK group amplifying humanitarian perspectives & critical reflections on today’s world.
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