1. |
Salam
04:25
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The sun goes dark
No stars tonight
The streets are fires
of man-made plight
The wind wears wings
Of ill-borne will
that flutter still
on window sills
The pen that wrought
these pearls of thought
has long since ceased
its tortured course
And wrapped in shrouds of fever dreams,
a poet hears the angels sing
Salam
His feet now fall
on a soot-stained floor
and his knees go weak
at the sight that’s wreaked
A blasted field of fire and steel
And all humanity seemed to burn within
a violent, writhing, man-made sea
of blood and bullets and RPGs
Heaven cries out with heavy tears
But the hate’s so loud man can’t hear
Salam
In flames well-fed by fossil fuels,
the scythe of Death deals its due-
his heart goes cold, soot stains his face
but his voice still fills that dismal place:
Is this fate's final blow
Then let my final verse now flow –
Elude us ALL those pearly gates,
till hearts of peace undo the hate.
credits
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2. |
Student of Life
03:03
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Cigarette butts
on an ash filled floor
a poem forgotten
and I'm writing some more
Fallen forsaken
bound and broken
enlightened empowered
raging in silence
illuminate eradicate
start over again
a poet and a teacher
a princely pied-pauper
a treasure for your leisure
a note out at sea
leader and follower
neither is me
neither is me, neither is me
a killer who's a winner
a wild wall street wrangler
watches from the window
for a fresh faced harvest
a sad serenade
singing one man brigade
makes homemade lemonade
from welfare aid
a hunted homosexual
and consenting bisexual
heal a frenetic
dumpster diving dyslexic
a dreamer and a schemer
with dead distant demeanor
dumps a dubstep drummer
for a drunk dame who's dimmer
neither is me, neither is me
I'm a 99-percenter
and a person of colour
a previous homeowner
with no present buyer
A peripheral savvy
lipstick heavy
long lash luscious booty
stick thin skank
a sometimes sexy and
super-scent heavy
green-card crazy
gold-digging little brat
damaged goods and destitute
livin on a playa
paying for the living
by playin on his flute
neither is me?
Tales for the telling and
songs for the asking
food for the wanting and
drink for the dying
Hell for the pious and
heaven for the devil
Hope for the lost and a
Harlot at the saddle
A wish come true is
a curses you choose
Pain so bad it turns
to pleasure again
I'm not anyone special
I cannot be considered wise but
some things I've learned
as a student of life
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3. |
Hantu Balu
03:17
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Tadi aku jumpa hantu
hantu itu nama Balu
Tadi aku jumpa hantu
hantu itu nama Balu
Jadi aku pun tanya hantu
Apa story jadi begini
Dalam diam bak dinihari
hantu Balu jawab begini
Mana tidak ku sakit hati
polis pukul ku sampai mati
Mana tidak ku sakit hati
polis pukul ku sampai mati
hey
Tadi aku jumpa hantu
hantu itu nama Balu
Tadi aku jumpa hantu
terus lari, tulis lagu
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Ksatriya
Be kind, be brave, speak truth.
I'm a storyteller exploring identity, social justice and marginalisation through spoken word and music.
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