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Culture, healing, politics and bullshit - Not necessarily in that order

The general, socio-political and very personal rantings and ravings of a hip hop head from the hood hustling for change... Of himself.

You all know me and are aware that I am unable to remain silent. At times to be silent is to lie. For silence can be interpreted as acquiescence.
—Miguel de Unamuno



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Saturday, November 20, 2010

Oh, Maker

I hear the drizzle of the rain
It's falling from my window
And in the corners of my mind
I hope that I'll get to see you again.
La da die da die da die da die my friend 

I heard the colors in the flowers
Just like the candle snugged at dawn
You're here, you're near, you're there and then you're gone
La da die da die da die da die 

Suffering in sinking sand 
All the hurt
See I'm really lost baby 
We suffered a rare, rare blue
So much hurt
On this earth 
But you loved me
And I really dared to love you too
Perhaps what I mean to say is 
Is that it's amazing that your love was mine 

Oh, Maker tell me did you know 

This love would burn so yellow 
Becoming orange and in its time 
Explode from grey to black then bloody wine
La da die da die da die da die 

Oh, Maker have you ever loved? 
Or known just what it was? 
I can't imagine the bitter end 
Of all the beauty that we're living in? 

Suffering in sinking sand 
All the hurt See I'm really lost baby 
We suffered a rare, rare blue 

So much hurt 
On this earth But you loved me 
And I really dared to love you too 
Perhaps what I mean to say is
Is that it's amazing that your love was miine

Lost inside a lonely world
where lovers pay the price.
Barely get the sound of music
to love and go dance to.
Now, it's time for us to go
and no one ever has to know
your love was in my pocket
and your eyes, eyes are in my, my soul....
No one will know it but me...



- J. Robinson

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