Roots
They give me excuses
too busy with their business
drinking their gin
doing gym, losing the belly
earning money
But we are monkeys,
Honey,
our tribe yells bells
our root grows on the route
where love goes and blows
among the bushes
They kneel in churches
hide their sins
players and prayers
whisper litanies and lies
with their tight ties
with their suspects veils
But we are veins
Bud,
And our words
flow through the world blood
mood
Crédito da foto: Robert e SHANA PARKEHARRISON
They give me excuses
too busy with their business
drinking their gin
doing gym, losing the belly
earning money
But we are monkeys,
Honey,
our tribe yells bells
our root grows on the route
where love goes and blows
among the bushes
They kneel in churches
hide their sins
players and prayers
whisper litanies and lies
with their tight ties
with their suspects veils
But we are veins
Bud,
And our words
flow through the world blood
mood
Crédito da foto: Robert e SHANA PARKEHARRISON