Alba s touto skladbou:
The Stomach For It,
Farmyard Filth,
Anarchy, My Dear,
Echoes: The Best of Pink Floyd,
Broadway & 52nd,
Walking, thinking, feeling, responding
Uncovering and discovering new things about myself and this mad world around me
Many philosophies, many tongues, many dialects and tones
Different styles but wild is wild, calm is calm, but cool is mature
Most cool cats are kids at heart
Now there's business along with the art
A chef with words, a chef with herbs, a chef with vegetables, soy products and bean curd
Some look at my face and say you're quite absurd
And I say why, 'cos I'm not down with the herd?
Of the world I haven't seen much, but with the mind I escape the ghetto's clutch
Loose cigarettes, ass bets on celo games, abandoned cars and colourful names on walls
Suburb days were filled with sun rays and crooked cops who looked at me sideways
Singin' that same old song, where ya from, 'cos round here you don't belong
Long strolls unravel my soul like a scroll telling many stories untold
But some look at my face and say you're quite absurd
And I say why, 'cos I'm not down with the herd?
I an' I light up the sky, who be the sun, to stir up your adrenaline like African drums
Status quo, no. Along with the grain, no. I got my own flow
Similar to none, dangerous like itchy fingers on guns, yet graceful like swans
But there's a built in bomb
Must defuse, must choose, right or wrong, win or lose
Born to die, that's why I ask why is it so hard to get a piece of the pie
Some look at my face and say you're quite absurd
And I say why, 'cos I'm not down with the herd?
