Losing yourself to someone new,
Looking down over a dusty pew.
Only by the knowledge of slim to few,
While they wait lined up in a dingy cue.

An uprising in a whailing line,
At the exodus hoping things turn out fine.
The collection of vibration,
From a rastaman's creation.

The cap only seemed to fit,
While lazily working the night shift.
Crazy baldheaded men going to war,
Feeling possative vibrations on the way to the store.
Pleading someone "cry to me",
Because the rat race was to hard to see.
Johny was, Roots, rock and reggae,
Wanting more of the things on display.

Pimpers paradise seemed so long.
We and them singing reemption song.
Coming in from the cold after work
After the zion train with a subtle smirk.
Pulled the bad card,
Made things quite hard.