1. |
Ghede Nimbo
04:54
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Watching over, watching over the dead.
Wild thing, we’re sick in Neogayne. Everyone is sick in Neogayne.
Baron Samdi is watching. Watching over the dead.
Wild boar, sick in the mountains. Everyone is sick in the mountains.
Baron Samdi is watching. Watching over the dead.
I ask why, o why, o why, o why why have you come, when will you die.
Wild goat, sick in Africa. Everyone is sick in Africa.
Baron Samdi is watching. Watching over the dead.
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2. |
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Do you like yourself? Do you know who you are?
Do you live in the light? Do you live in the dark?
Do you hope for life? Do you see it end?
Do you face the facts? Do you still pretend?
Do you assert yourself? Do you follow behind?
Do you enjoy life? Do you not have time?
Do you live in the streets? Do you live in a home?
Do you have enough friends? Do you feel alone?
They’ve locked you in the engine room.
Do you know yourself? Do you wonder how?
Do you live in the past? Do you live in the now?
Do you sleep on a bed? Do you sleep on the floor?
Do you have enough? Do you still want more?
Do you believe yourself? Do you seek for the truth?
Do you long to be old? Do you long for your youth?
Do you dance through life? Do you carry a load?
Do you conceal your wealth? Do you have none to hold?
They’ve locked you in the engine room.
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3. |
They Killed My Baby
03:28
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They held a book to her face,
Repeating passages hoping to subvert her.
Relinquish intuition, abandon your free thought.
I am sent by God to destroy all that is not.
They threw the book in her face.
Blaming hell for the feelings that compelled her.
You’re just a problem infidel, no response, no regrets.
They killed my baby.
They held a knife to her throat, demanding ransom hoping to alarm her.
Consider these alternatives, aforementioned securities.
We are your government.
Approach us please on bended knees.
They drew the knife across her throat.
Drawing blood they thought would vindicate their power.
You’re just a problem infidel, no response, no regrets.
They killed my baby.
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4. |
Deadbeat
05:37
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Sliding out of the dirt.
Crawling up through the earth.
Ghostly bodies in heat. Deadbeat.
Back sore from the sleep.
We dance seething in the street.
Scare everybody we meet. Deadbeat.
Relics exhumed from the grave.
Some freshly decayed.
Strip off the winding sheet. Deadbeat.
Slide along on the dirt.
Decrepit bodies emerge.
Flesh rots off your feet. Deadbeat.
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5. |
Window
04:41
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Outside it's raining, a permanent joviality.
The streets glazed with moisture offer pathways for the blind.
Though inside it's solace, compared with that madness.
The room starts to decay the deepest inner dreams.
I look out my window. I stand on the table.
I'm storing my anger to be let out all in one.
It ensures me possibilities of breaking present fashions.
And the norms that tail behind them, leading on majority.
How can this happen?
Do others not have a window?
Through which they can clearly view the doings on the street.
For me it's plain to see that the panes on my window,
Have been polished by the faces,
Of pressed foreheads that leave a streak.
I look out my window; I stare dumbly at nothing.
Because nothing is what is out there,
And everyone fights to meet it first.
This retarded mentality consumes the individual,
And leads them into thinking they'll be rewarded for their work.
Over a number, a perforated paper.
They tear the very life force straight out through your heart.
They romanticize their losses and try you if you're different.
They believe in bearing crosses.
Only if the other ones wear the thorns.
I look out my window; I see nothing new there.
So, I turn and leave the building and walk out to the street.
I plan on making movements and stirring up the doldrums.
Creating whole new fashions for people behind windows.
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6. |
Dark Eye
04:21
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You occupy yourself, behind your money hide.
I've seen it all before.
Laid clear against the door.
There are no religious ties, alone religious lies.
You have bitten the hand that feeds you.
Convinced you are ordained to walk the earth on high.
With the limit only sky. You are completely hypnotized.
With a finger in your eye.
Torment your body find extortion in your mind.
You rest with proper cause, limbs shackled to the wall.
Make the present last, lest you confuse it with the past.
And for the future trust the omen.
The premonition is the warning.
Live with social cause and consort with an evil lot.
In the hopes of gaining sight, remove your finger from your eye.
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7. |
General Dig
02:30
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General Dig marches on. General Dig marches on. He marches on
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8. |
I Knew Jack The Ripper
04:29
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Tenacious fog crept slowly to blanket the remains of what he’d done.
Unhurriedly he wiped his hands from the blood of his victim.
The murder was over before the scream. The terror still in her eyes.
He turned and walked back to the roundabout with a proper English style.
I knew Jack the Ripper.
The streets became his playground, the moorlands of mortal sin.
Staring bedeviled into the darkness, visitation settled in.
Stale odor of opium on his breath. Satan powered his reflective thought.
Obsession had control of his very soul as he would turn cold steel to hot.
I knew Jack the Ripper.
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9. |
||||
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Do you like yourself? Do you know who you are?
Do you live in the light? Do you live in the dark?
Do you hope for life? Do you see it end?
Do you face the facts? Do you still pretend?
Do you assert yourself? Do you follow behind?
Do you enjoy life? Do you not have time?
Do you live in the streets? Do you live in a home?
Do you have enough friends? Do you feel alone?
They’ve locked you in the engine room.
Do you know yourself? Do you wonder how?
Do you live in the past? Do you live in the now?
Do you sleep on a bed? Do you sleep on the floor?
Do you have enough? Do you still want more?
Do you believe yourself? Do you seek for the truth?
Do you long to be old? Do you long for your youth?
Do you dance through life? Do you carry a load?
Do you conceal your wealth? Do you have none to hold?
They’ve locked you in the engine room.
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John Christian Windsor, Nova Scotia
Music producer and arranger.
Composer
Performer.
Author.
Activist.
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