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The lowdown is the low down of the west play their games the western way clutching a fluffy toy says this is a teddy bear Come down the Equator where men were born men never were boys and blazing sun seasons and bake you mahogany hard in the palatial forestry you learn to look the wild beasts in the eyes The refrigerated souls says nowt when you bawl at lions its your turn at the watering hole and can mimic the hiss of the serpents and pull hogs by the tail you know red eye albinos only come out at night to pose by the fire I, who have stood under the African sun at noon and offered it more coal to kindle its hellish fire even more I, owner of Sango excalibur that has slain twenty plus in bloodless bliss can I be moved by ice cave dwellers who are forever children on knees I own rays of sun and spake with ancestors unbowed breathe the air of the Serengeti and ascended Olumo for homage I will drink my own blood and hear the calls of my deities to arm I will never be moved by the music of the unclean souls in howling celebrating their shame and praising the jins of weakness and cowardice I am my father's son, born under African sky I am the land that made the man of the man of the living men I know the star that led three to herald the King of Kings forever I know who I am, grind  me to dust I will rise and tell you yet again I am my father's son...I know who and what I am...... I am my father's son...I know who and what I am...... I am my father's son...I know who and what I am......
0
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 8:20 PM UTC
Cut to the chase.....
The lowdown is the low down of the west play their games the western way clutching a fluffy toy says this is a teddy bear Come down the Equator where men were born men never were boys and blazing sun seasons and bake you mahogany hard in the palatial forestry you learn to look the wild beasts in the eyes The refrigerated souls says nowt when you bawl at lions its your turn at the watering hole and can mimic the hiss of the serpents and pull hogs by the tail you know red eye albinos only come out at night to pose by the fire I, who have stood under the African sun at noon and offered it more coal to kindle its hellish fire even more I, owner of Sango excalibur that has slain twenty plus in bloodless bliss can I be moved by ice cave dwellers who are forever children on knees I own rays of sun and spake with ancestors unbowed breathe the air of the Serengeti and ascended Olumo for homage I will drink my own blood and hear the calls of my deities to arm I will never be moved by the music of the unclean souls in howling celebrating their shame and praising the jins of weakness and cowardice I am my father's son, born under African sky I am the land that made the man of the man of the living men I know the star that led three to herald the King of Kings forever I know who I am, grind  me to dust I will rise and tell you yet again I am my father's son...I know who and what I am...... I am my father's son...I know who and what I am...... I am my father's son...I know who and what I am......
yenson
Written by
yenson
M/London
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 8:20 PM UTC
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