Текст песни My Old Home - K'naan
So
yeah,
basically
A
lot
of
people
ask
me
how
life
was
then
So
here
it
is
My
old
home
smelled
of
good
birth
Boiled
red
beans,
kernel
oil
and
hand
me
down
poetry
It's
brick
white-washed
walls
widowed
by
first
paint
The
tin
roof
top
humming
songs
of
promise
while
time
is
Locked
into
demonic
rhythm
with
the
leaves
The
trees
had
to
win
Hugging
them,
loving
them
a
torturous
love
Buggin'
when
It
was
over
and
done
The
round
cemented
pot
kept
the
rain
drops
cool
Neighbors
and
dwellers
spatter
in
the
pool
Kids
playing
football
with
his
hand
and
sock
We
had
what
we
got,
and
it
wasn't
a
lot
No
one
knew
they
were
poor
We
were
all
innocent
to
greeze
judgment
The
country
was
combusting
with
life
like
a
long
hibernating
volcano
With
a
long
tale
of
success
like
J-Lo
Farmers,
fishers,
fighters,
even
fools
had
a
place
in
production
The
coastal
line
was
the
place
of
seduction
The
coral
reef
make
you
daze
in
reflection
The
women
walked
with
grace
and
perfection
And
we
just
knew
we
were
warriors
too
Nothing
morbid,
its
true
We
were
glorious
Boom!
Then
one
day
it
came
Spoiled
up
a
ray
like
rain
Like
oil
in
a
flame,
it
pained
The
heart
attack
sudden
Odder
than
eleven
Harder
than
a
punch
in
the
womb
Harder
than
the
lunch
you
consume
For
us,
it
had
a
cancerous
fume,
more
lust
Men
who
made
killing
hoggies,
Selling
prout
fully
like
healthy
livestock
It
made
tides
rock
with
a
diligent
mock
Confused
are
the
people,
infused
in
the
evil
Professed
to
eject
like
Jews
in
the
sequel,
to
win
It
came
in
the
morning,
with
a
warning
and
without
The
hurting
was
a
burden,
only
certain
was
doubt
A
mythical
tale,
no
soul
knows
well
Liberty
went
to
hell,
freedom
called
for
shells
Fierce
was
the
blow,
keep
your
ears
to
the
show
It
appears
Orwell
was
right
in
'84
Had
big
brother
kill
Mother
in
her
store
With
all
of
us
watching,
we
didn't
lover
her
anymore
Peep
my
poem,
Mother
was
my
old
home
Good
winners
looted,
in
my
old
home
Religion
is
burned
down,
in
my
old
home
Kindness
is
shackled,
in
my
old
home
Justice
has
been
raped,
in
my
old
home
Murderers
hold
post,
in
my
old
home
The
land,
bombers,
ghosts,
in
my
old
home
We
got
pistols
with
eyes,
corruption
and
lies
Trusting
snakes,
and
death
without
breaks
Suspicious
new
borns
live
in
our
horn
Used
to
the
pain,
rack
bodies
not
grain
Chopped
limbs
not
trees
Spend
lives
not
wealth
Seek
vengeance
not
truth,
the
craziest
youth
Hoist
pain
not
plans,
nigga'
fuck
your
parents
Bandits
will
beat
us
down,
in
my
old
home
Rumors
are
law
now,
in
my
old
home
Sedatives
of
faith,
in
my
old
home
Rapists
are
praised,
in
my
old
home
Demonds
dressed
well,
in
my
old
home
Infants
are
nailed,
in
my
old
home
Spirits
are
jailed,
in
my
old
home
Grudges
grow
tails,
in
my
old
home
High
roads
of
sea
in
electric
Hayden
Outward
labor
beneath
stubborn
faith
Our
farms
produce
guilty
grub
and
Our
kids
depend
on
shifty
luck,
see
Our
muse
is
life
for
death
is
old,
so
Don't
blame
me
for
truth
I
told,
say
Good
winners
looted,
in
my
old
home
Religion
is
burned
down,
in
my
old
home
Kindness
is
shackled,
in
my
old
home
Justice
has
been
raped,
in
my
old
home
Murderers
hold
post,
in
my
old
home
The
land,
bombers,
ghosts,
in
my
old
home
![K'naan - The Dusty Foot Philosopher](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/l/t/v/p/bMQUfaPvTL.jpg)
1 Until the Lion Learns to Speak
2 Boxing My Shadow
3 Voices in My Head
4 The African Way (feat. Mwafrika)
5 Hoobaale
6 In the Beginning
7 Strugglin
8 The Dusty Foot Philosopher
9 If Rap Gets Jealous
10 My God
11 I Was Stabbed By Satan
12 Moment
13 Moment (Interlude)
14 My Old Home
15 Blues for the Horn
16 Til We Get There
17 Whats Hardcore?
18 For Mohamound (Soviet)
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