Tekster: K'naan. Other. Blues For The Horn.

Yes! Yes yes.
In a conservative form
I wanna ask you a few things before I conform
To the popular belief about where I was born
Are they still illin', still killin' poppin' the corn?
How's the horn, how's the love wavin' the ocean morn'?
How 'bout the young, do they still possess the poetry tongue?
And do they still grief [? ] like the depth of the lung?
How's the nomad, did the herd graze well this year?
From the news to what I know the growin' gap ain't clear
How's the earth, how 'bout the stars and the [? ]
Do you still await on change like a new moon's birth?
Does it still flood ancient wisdom parallel with blur?
Do you still see the pain [? ] deep?
Or did you fight off the plight of the colonized mind?
What of the rainy season, do the kids still bury seeds?
And get taken with uncertainty like me scared of leavin? '
How are the poets, the women and the orphans torn?
I miss 'em all like, old opportunities gone
What of the elders, story tellers in abandoned homes
Miss 'em all like, childhood, reminisceful songs
Disputes, do they still settle 'em by bloodying your shoes?
Fist rules, rather finger equipped with sick tools
What of the wind, I recall it was serenity's end
When the breeze would come and the trees would bend
And the people would say "look what it leads with sin".
And the air was violent and our care was silent
And the only law we [? ] was a pair of tyrants
Man you know, this is why I'm down in deep indigo
And I sleep really poor, on the circumstance floor
Anyway, how's stress, does it still rule your chest?
Do [? ] still rape baby girls without breasts?
How are moms, are they still screaming "put away the arms"?
And against the dispossession of their family-owned farms
How are the many rivers and the lakes and the seas
Are they still angry with us for our poisonous deeds
How are the many rivers and the lakes and the seas
Are they still angry, at Africa

So who's dead and who's alive, did the raids multiply?
Did the poor fight the draught with their minimum supply?
Did the warlords abort the wars and force a part of the peace to pork?
To promote disease and easening 'creased divorce?
What of police and courts, are they still heatin' forests?
Leaking pores and cheatedly to the bleeding corpse
What of the kind and good, can they still, laugh intensely
Like the, mind and word or is it, innocent slaughters by way the, iron stood
And what of the playwrights, reflection in the scapes of great sights
Revolution from power's the writings of brave fights
Despite the legendry that you hear we left by
I head with refuges and niggers they shit right, and
Don't you play soccer by the ocean front?
In America, I shovel the snow while I'm smoking blunts
You mean to tell me that you out there still totin' guns?
Blow incense of the hardened hardly copin' moms
Damn you and circumstance too I can't stand you
You make a mockery of our struggle [? ] with plans too
And I swear to god I wish you helped [? ] back/beck? too
And I caressed the Europeans who instigated your words
And I curse the Russians who impregnated the [? ] they call birth and hurts 'cause you never wake and see the death snake
It's like the conflict of self, submerged in satanic hate
Remember [? ] walking back and hide [? ] from school
Bare feet, the hot sand, massaging our feet is [? ]
'Cause now my mother slips on the ice and her back is weak.
And I feel like a failure, a mute in the age of speech,
I said I feel like a failure, a mute in the age of speech,
Man I feel like a failure, a mute in the age of speech.