Standing in the sand, smelling salty waters,
Of the Caribbean seas, through the cold vibrant breeze.
Watching all the tall, happy, swaying coco nut trees,
And when you sniffle a little of the bake and shark it makes you want to sneeze.

Then take a walk in our rivers and cook up a curry *** or stew,
With fish coo coo and a little calla-loo.
and you take a bite and you taste buds and glands spring water of the delicious flavors that makes you say mhmmm.    

Afterwards you can visit the reefs and see the dancing colors of the under water reefs,
Of the Caribbean seas, where I'm from and would always love to be.

But tho forget, it's Carnival time so come in your costumes and with your coolers because you're coming out to fete,
And tho forget, when you step out on "D" road of jouvert morning until night listen to the Soca music,
And let it rap you up and run through your ears with melodies that will make you want to bep.

Oh yes the Caribbean dream, where every man's a king and every woman's a queen.

Do you have memories of when you were very small.
When you were eight months old perhaps and loved to crawl.
Or when you were now one year old, the blocks you built up was knocked down to fall.
How about just three years old, the year before preschool.
No! I can't remember.

Maybe I do!
Maybe I remember looking at the sky and asking why it's so blue.
Or the time I was listening to classic 80's songs,
Or was it 90's songs, I may have it wrong.
Yes! about the time I now began to walk,
and the first time I began to talked.
Did I say papa or mama?
I can't quite recall.

Was it the time when I fell.
Or the day I jumped the first time I heard the door bell.
Maybe the time that I always cried because I didn't know how to shout help.
I really can't tell.
It's like a cemetery, because to me it's all dead.
The remembrance of lost memories.

To distinguish from the all colors, pink is my favorite.
Even though I am a boy, I'm not afraid to say it.
That yes pink is my favorite color,
And I would choose no other.

The dust that my father walked along will be his legacy.
For where ever the dust goes my prints will be.
His words is what I cherish, my precious stones.
His respect, my gift,
His love, my sanctuary,
He left along his path.

His footsteps are my diamonds, my precious stones.
His loyalty, my treasures,
His sacrifice, my gold,
He left along the road for me to walk.

Although he's not in my life.
And acts like he never cares,
His remembrance of me is his pain,
His memories,  my gain,
Along the way I pave for my sons,
The path of my father I shall not take.

Lord I ask for strength,
Lord I ask for endurance,
And everyday in every way,
I'll get better and better with your help oh Lord.

Lord I ask for wisdom,
Knowledge and understanding.
Lord I ask for the power to be brave,
And everyday in every way,
I'll get better and better with your help oh Lord.

Lord I ask to pick me up when I fall,
And the willingness to do the same for another.
Lord I ask for your blessing from above,
And everyday in every way,
I'll get better and better with your help oh Lord. Amen.

The democracy of hypocrites in the highest levels and forms.
Two different sides of pretense, in acts that they perform.
To convince another of another, I believe they want a medal,
For performing it to the world, hypocrisy in the highest levels.

Hypocrisy in the way of being friends with a kid,
Who always down and never seems to fit in.
And when everyone begins to suddenly laugh at him.
You're never there to give a hand, but always far out in the crowds,
Thinking if you go to help, they would laugh at you being friends with him.

Hypocrisy in forms of being two people at a time.
A time for your beliefs in having higher standards and another time for the hypocrite.
Never would you wish to see them catch you doing it.
Because there and then only all your friends, family and the ones you love the most will see you as a counterfeit.