En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Ride Natty Ride

Dready got a job to do
And he's got to fulfill that mission
To see his hurt is their
Greatest ambition
But we'll survive
In this world of competition
'Cause no matter what they do
Natty keep on comin thru
And no matter what they say
Natty de deh every day

Natty Dread rides again
Thru the mystics of tomorrow
Natty Dread rides again
Having no fear

song performed by by Bob Marley from Survival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roots

Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
I and I are the roots
Some are the dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, lo ok at that
They need some dry wood
To cook up the raw food
Whoa, look at that
I got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Some are wolf
Inna sheeps clothing
Whoa, look at that
Many are called
But only a few are chosen
Whoa, look at that
Nothing that dividers can do
Cant seperate us from our father
Whoa, look at that
You see, blood is thicker than water
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna disyah ghetto, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Whoa, I and I are the roots
Some are leaves
While some are branches
But remember I and I are the roots
Some are dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Hey, I and I are the roots
Ooh we, roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Oh yeah, I and I are the roots

song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Herbal Mystic

Rastaman, fight them back
With a heart attack.
Lick them back,
Like them beat you down.
Brace your loins, like a king
And let the natty blow in the winds.
Dread, burn Babylon
With a herbal mystic,
Mystic!
Mystic!

They killed The Savior,
Born in a manger.
Killed the prophets,
With hatchets.
And the liars are still standing.
The oppressor man
Still grand-standing.
So Bungoman say:
'You want to kill Ital,
make it swift
because this dread
is not adrift'.

Rastafari!
Rastafari!
Jesus is not dead.
Rastafari!
Rastafari!
Jesus is a Dread,
Dread!
Dread!

I can see Babylon burning.
I can see Babylon turning,
Turning red,
Red!
Red!
Red!

poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fight Fe Come In (James Bon & General CP)

What a bam bam round the mike m.c.
What a bam bam round the mike m.c.
James Bond back up general CP
We ram dance hall cork house party
People come from all about just fe hear we
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
As me open the door me get a face full of steam
Session ram like a tin a sardine
Just make sure seh you kerchief clean
Else you face would a full up a green
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
As me go through the crowd Jah man me hear a scream
Me I dren freddy him still a day dream
Me dip up and down like a submarine
Twice as fast as the one Barry Sheene
A good job me pants have a solid seam
A good job me kercheif nice and clean
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Some a them a scream some a them a shout
Me really want you know people come from all about
Some a them a woman
Some of them a man
The whole a them want come this ya session
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Natty fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Natty dread in a the dance him a bun him collie
Baby mother deh a dance with pregnant belly
Bad boy deh a road him a fire remi
Dutty nigger deh a road them a chat shegri
But its I James Bond telling every body
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them want inside inside and no one want outside outside
Me seh the people outside want come in the session
Them want to hear James Bond and CP the general
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in

song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fight Fe Come In

What a bam bam round the mike m.c.
What a bam bam round the mike m.c.
James Bond back up general CP
We ram dance hall cork house party
People come from all about just fe hear we
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in

As me open the door me get a face full of steam
Session ram like a tin a sardine
Just make sure seh you kerchief clean
Else you face would a full up a green
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
As me go through the crowd Jah man me hear a scream
Me I dren freddy him still a day dream
Me dip up and down like a submarine
Twice as fast as the one Barry Sheene
A good job me pants have a solid seam
A good job me kercheif nice and clean
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in

Some a them a scream some a them a shout
Me really want you know people come from all about
Some a them a woman
Some of them a man
The whole a them want come this ya session
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Natty fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in

Natty dread in a the dance him a bun him collie
Baby mother deh a dance with pregnant belly
Bad boy deh a road him a fire remi
Dutty nigger deh a road them a chat shegri
But its I James Bond telling every body
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
What a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in

Them want inside inside and no one want outside outside
Me seh the people outside want come in the session
Them want to hear James Bond and CP the general
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in
Them just a fight fe come in
Fight fe come in

song performed by by UB40 from Baggariddim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unsuspecting

There is a natty kind of mind
That slicks its thoughts,
Culls its oughts,
Trims its views,
Prunes its trues,
And never suspects it is a rind.

poem by Jean Toomer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soldering

(beckford & ranglin)
Soldering its what the young girl wants
Soldering
Soldering its what the young girl needs
Soldering
She says she dont want the young buy,
The young boy drink too much white rum
She says she dont want the soul man,
cause soul man fall asleep in bed
She says she dont want the dread lock
cause dread lock smoke too much haile
Soldering its what the young girl wants
Soldering
When you check it out the young boy is undecided
And the dread lock is getting natty groove
While the old man hes watching them move
And the soul boy he start to prove
Soldering its what the young girl wants
Soldering
Soldering its what the young girl needs
Soldering
Oh young girl want soldering

song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ride

We first met on a golden night
As the moon radiated love light
On the dock of the bay.
Somewhere between the real deal and an illusion
We lay unapologetically
Stroking each others lack of responsibility.

'I want to be a poet,'
She said looking over the mountain,
'I want to be a hippy,'
She said checking out me natty dread,
'I want to be political,'
She whispered as she admired my scars,
'I may not look it, but I'm really oppressed,'
She said smiling,
Handing me her welfare book.

The sea lassoed the shore
Time and night hovered towards daylight
And bellyfilled foxes sniffed their way home.
She put the blanket over her head
Farted, and fell asleep.

The next time I saw her
She was trying to find The Goddess of Plenty,
Desperately seeking the freeway
And after me money.
'It's different for women,' she said
'We can use men for their bodies
Men do it to us all the time.'
The next time I saw her
She ran over me with her wheelchair.

poem by Benjamin Zephaniah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Train Window

Small towns
Crawling out of their green shirts…
Tubercular towns
Coughing a little in the dawn…
And the church…
There is always a church
With its natty spire
And the vestibule—
That's where they whisper:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…
How many codes for a wireless whisper—
And corn flatter than it should be
And those chits of leaves
Gadding with every wind?
Small towns
From Connecticut to Maine:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…tzz-tzz…

poem by Lola Ridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Day Long

All day long in fog and wind,
The waves have flung their beating crests
Against the palisades of adamant.
My boy, he went to sea, long and long ago,
Curls of brown were slipping underneath his cap,
He looked at me from blue and steely eyes;
Natty, straight and true, he stepped away,
My boy, he went to sea.
All day long in fog and wind,
The waves have flung their beating crests
Against the palisades of adamant.

poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Velvet and Lace (and little pink thong)

Startin’ to like velvet and lace
Startin’ to check out
broadway shows

Startin ‘ to use tutti fruiti body wash
Getting’ a lil giddy
pickin’ out new clothes

Getting a closet full of shoes
Losin’ weight
and dressin’ natty

Usin’ words like gorgeous n’ super
Walkin’ mincey
Talkin’ catty

But just because I’m
Startin’ to like Velvet and lace
is no reason to say

That wearin’ frilly pants
And a little makeup on my face
Means I might be turnin’ a lil’ bit gay

I’m still a manly, good ol’ boy
So Don’t be getting’
me wrong

But I just can’t help lookin
In the mirror
When I’m wearing my lil pink thong

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Radio Station: Chico, Irish Tuesday

there is
a place
in chicago,

hidden
and open
only
to the irish

lonely
only rare lonely irish girls.

hey iris,
hello irish,

little natty
nato
bateau
couteau
coto
costo

boulo

bella bellissi si mo
deli isso mo

es ki mo who mo mo mo (s)

so lady
why you are a lady
if you are
only
lonely
and left alone.

so irish
lady
why you are irish
who hates the brit- esh and not the brite-esh
who bit itches and iches
behind the walls.

And
lady,
please my lady,
why are you
staying alone if you
are in love with another
lovely baby
who always
makes you feel
unique
like an
ancient boutique
inside
the history
museum.

poem by Atef Ayadi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money Man

money man
they do not believe that this life ever ends they think as long as they get paid life then begins they dress natty and carry lots of expensive things everything is money the threads the car the wallet and the cards its what they live for the last day of this month or the first day of the next one it all starts over again how many did they kill to get ahead how many people in the grave so they can drive so they will never run out of petrol for the car how much goes on behind the street the people that they fleece to get the money that they need to get ahead how many must be dead bye the hands of the well dressed man he is the tiptop of society well within his rights to live for money is the way of all the best dressed men but when this life is over he will pay the devil all his dues my friend and then and only then will his life reflect his time over his money on fire and gone nothing to eat nothing to drink but smoke he was the money man

poem by Charles Hice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Falco Rides Again

These are the given lyrics for this song, but to my ears, most of the first verse sounds to me to be in german.
This is the story of a lonely man
Whos seen the world
From japan to afghanistan
Hey! ho!
Everybody thought that I was gone for good
But Im back - understood
Hey! ho!
Ive been through the snow and the storm
Felt the cold
No one to keep me warm
Agony and pain
Falco rides again - bang bang
I wont break
I wont bend
Falco rides again
Its me and my gang
I came back just like a boomerang
Ill fight till the end
Falco rides again
Ive been up, Ive been down
Ive been pushed around
Beated, mistreated,
Gagged and bound
Hey! ho!
Not a soul in the world thought I would survive
Took every muscle in my body to stay alive
Hey! ho!
Ill break down the walls
No more defeat
I want the taste of victory
Revenge is sweet
... rides again!

song performed by by Falco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Simple Sister Goes To Sydney

When Flo resolved to go to town from brothers three a yell went up,
Predicting ruin and distress. Bill in his horror dropped a cup.
“Gorstruth!” he said, “in Sydney there what is a simple girl to do?
They took me down. I lost me watch and seven quid. What ‘ope for you?”

Ben turned on her in pale dismay. “Look here, me girl, ain’t you bin told
How one iv them there spieler blokes done me for twenty pound in gold?
He was as nice a gentleman as any in the blessed shops:
He got away with all I had, and took a luner at the cops.”

“Me, too,” said Dave, “that time I went to Sydney town to see the Show
One trimmed me for me bran’ new suit. You stay where we can watch you, Flo.”
Flo packed. “If spieler comes at me his finish will be sharp,” she said;
And when the boys next heard of her she’d got a bloke, and then was wed.

She wrote: “He’s rather nice, I think, and I am putting him to work.
Next Chrissmiss we are comin’ up to see yous people back o’ Bourke.”
And when he came he brought for Bill a silver watch and seven quid,
For Dave a bran’ new suit of check, a ruby tie-pin and a lid.

To Ben he handed twenty pounds, in nice new minted sovereigns, too.
And still the brothers gaped at him, and still their great amazement grew.
He was a natty kind of chap, with gentle manners, small and slim.
And when they spoke ‘twas as one man. “So ‘elp me cat,” they said, “it’s ‘im!”

poem by Edward George Dyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Matter

Would it matter if I was gone tomorrow?
Would it matter if I hurt myself?

For at times it seems like nothing matters.
Not even myself.

As I lie on the floor I ask myself over and over again in my mind,
Would it matter?

For right now the answer is no it wouldn't matter.
Maybe in the morning I will think differently.

poem by Christina J. Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jack Cornstalk as a Lover

'For he rides hard to dull the pain,
Who rides from him who loves him best;
But he rides slowly home again,
Whose restless heart must rove for rest.'

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another One Rides The Bus

(parody of queens another one bites the dust)
Riding in the bus down the boulevard
And the place was pretty packed (yeah!)
Couldnt find a seat so I had to stand
With the perverts in the back
It was smelling like a locker room
There was junk all over the floor
Were already packed in like sardines
But were stopping to pick up more, look out
(chorus)
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus
Another comes on and another comes on
Another one rides the bus
Hey, hes gonna sit by you
Another one rides the bus
Theres a suitcase poking me in the ribs
Theres an elbow in my ear
Theres a smelly old bum standing next to me
Hasnt showered in a year
I think Im missing a contact lens
I think my wallets gone
And I think this bus is stopping again
To let a couple more freaks get on look out
(chorus)
(weird sound effects)
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus ow
Another one rides the bus hey hey
Another one rides the bus hey-ey-ey-ey
The window doesnt open and the fan is broke
And my face is turning blue (yeah)
I havent been in a crowd like this
Since I went to see the who
Well I shouldve got off a couple miles ago
But I couldnt get to the door
There isnt any room for me to breathe
And now were gonna pick up more
(chorus)

song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long, Tall Texan

One, two, three, four
Giddy up
Giddy up
Well Im a long tall texan
I ride a big white horse
(he rides from texas on a big white horse)
Well Im a long tall texan
I ride a big white horse
(he rides from texas on a big white horse)
Well people look at me and say
Hurrah hurrah is that your horse?
(he rides from texas on a big white horse)
Yeah
Well Im a long tall texan
I wear a ten gallon hat
(he rides from texas with a ten gallon hat)
Well Im a long tall texan
I wear a ten gallon hat
(he rides from texas with a ten gallon hat)
Well people look at me and say
Hurrah hurrah is that your hat?
(he rides from texas with a ten gallon hat)
Yeah
Well I was walkin down the street
With my shinin badge
My spurs jinglin down at my feet
I seen a man a comin
Comin with a gun
And I just cant be beat
Well Im a long tall texan
I enforce justice for the law
(he rides from texas to enforce the law)
Well Im a long tall texan
I enforce justice for the law
(he rides from texas to enforce the law)
Well people look at me and say
Hurrah hurrah are you the law?
(he rides from texas to enforce the law)

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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D. J. S

All of the d.j.s surely have taken lessons
Start talkin trash and Ill come with my smith & wesson
A little competition comes my way but it always winds up the same,
the stone that the builder refuse shall be the head cornerstone
Aint nothin wrong, aint nothing right
And still I set and lie awake all night
All of the d.j.s surely have taken lessons
Try talkin trash and Ill come with my smith & wesson
Enough d.j.s come with enough stylie
But when I bust my lyrics we all know its wicked-wily.
Aint nothin wrong, aint nothing right
But still I sit and lie awake all night
You better be strapped with the gat
If you wanna walk with me, bound to come down
With the new stylie, rockin rubadub know as reggae music
Gotta come down with some new lyrics
Cause it just aint nothing, oh I said its been a real long time
Aint nothin wrong, aint nothing right
And still I sit and lie awake all night
Rubadub blender a new mixer
I am the one with d.j. with enough flavor
Hear my dub... lord have his grilled cheese.
I aint jamaican, but I aint no freak
Caught the man eno with the one pound bag o tweak
And called him ghost rider every time you see him he fulfill the danger
Aint nothin wrong, aint nothing right
And still I sit and lie awake all night
Dred gotta a job to do and he might fulfill his mission
To see his pain would be his greatest ambition
We will survive in this world of competition
To make sure we have our ammunition...bo bo bo bo...go go go go...
I wont wait so long
I said I wont wait so long
For you
Stop your messin around,
Better think of your future
Time to straighten right out
Or youll wind up in jail

song performed by by Sublime
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bringing Home The Cows

Shadows of the twilight falling
On the mountain's brow,
To each other birds are calling,
In the leafy bough.
Where the daisies are a-springing,
And the cattle bells are ringing,
Comes my Mary, gaily singing,
Bringing home the cows.

By a bush the pathway skirted,
Room for two allows.
All the cornfields are deserted,
Idle are the ploughs.
Striving for wealth's spoil and booty,
Farmer boys have finished duty,
When I meet my little beauty,
Bringing home the cows.

Tender words and kind addresses,
Most polite of bows,
Rosy cheeks and wavy tresses
Do my passions rouse

Dress so natty and so cleanly,
Air so modest and so queenly.
Oh! so haughty, yet serenely,
Bringing home the cows.

Arm-in-arm together walking,
While the cattle browse,
Earnestly together talking,
Plighting lovers' vows.
Where the daisies are a-springing,
Wedding bells will soon be ringing,
Then we'll watch our servant bringing
Mine and Mary's cows.

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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