| I see an old man
|
| Sittin' on a park bench
|
| Lookin' in the skies when
|
| He can see the mouth-stench
|
| Of the range of the people
|
| Walkin' and talkin' nonsense
|
| In the park
|
| I see a man sittin' there
|
| With a newspaper
|
| Under his head and hair
|
| I think
|
| He would be down for me to tell him
|
| That he’d been waiting 'round here
|
| For all, of his life and
|
| It took time for the soul to come
|
| When it came i saw the same
|
| Old scene over and over again
|
| My friend
|
| People’s talkin' and squackin' in
|
| The park, and
|
| Sittin' on a bench, thinkin' 'bout things
|
| I think of all the people of the park
|
| Sleepin' in the street
|
| Livin' from their hearts
|
| Sleepin' in the street
|
| Livin’s kinda hard
|
| Sleepin' in the street
|
| People fall apart…
|
| There’s a park bench
|
| That’s painted black and white
|
| And when you sleep there
|
| It won’t get wet when you wake up
|
| Because the trees are withered
|
| And so you dry in the sunlight
|
| You sit there and you prepare to make
|
| A move and so you go through
|
| Each and every can
|
| Lookin' inside tryin' to see somethin'
|
| That you didn’t
|
| See last night
|
| Wantin' to get somethin' to eat
|
| And you go down the street
|
| You see some friends of yours
|
| And then they all speak
|
| Sayin' what’s happenin' man
|
| You sleepin' in the park again
|
| Yeah nothin' but a survival thang
|
| You know what i’m sayin'
|
| Insha’allah
|
| Then again my friend
|
| All they want to
|
| Do is play you
|
| Like you are a fool
|
| But i know better
|
| You’re safe from school
|
| Through this stay cool
|
| Mark you are mis-skewed
|
| An' now i know better
|
| I maintain black
|
| We’ll overcome, in the sun
|
| On the bench, in the park
|
| Where you lay, when it’s dark
|
| And it’s wet
|
| Cuz it’s raining on you
|
| You have newspapers and you’d like to go home
|
| But you can’t
|
| Cuz you just got put out
|
| On your own
|
| You’re thinkin' 'bout your kids
|
| You’re thinkin' 'bout your girl
|
| You’re thinkin' of all the things you did
|
| You see the children play
|
| You hear the people barely look at you
|
| Laughing while they run away
|
| Sleeping in the street
|
| Living from the heart
|
| Sleeping in the street
|
| People fall apart
|
| In the park, where are
|
| They’s every people walkin' round
|
| Lookin' at themselves far
|
| As if they were somethin'
|
| But they ain’t nothin', they frontin'
|
| Not a people nowhere standing
|
| All these people are something
|
| Earth, perched on
|
| The edge of all time, and yet they search
|
| For drums imperial dreams
|
| Similarly so barred
|
| Can’t buy my soul
|
| Won’t sell my soul
|
| To the devil
|
| On the other level never
|
| With another rebel
|
| Under trouble
|
| Oh no!
|
| I’ll never see you go down
|
| My people can’t go down
|
| No noo
|
| My people can’t go down
|
| No nooo
|
| Sleeping in the street
|
| Leaving from the heart
|
| Sleeping in the street
|
| People fall apart |