Ara

Ara was the grandson of a thief
Mara too they were close brothers
Seri's passion is what they had in common
Seri is the father
Gifts of God from somewhere far and desolate
I mean who would live there? A madman or a masochist
Yet their family didn't willingly leave
See Romiel the patriarch Seri's father
Was too old for his trademarked way of the shade wich Umbe taught him
"And so"?
And so he got caught at the market
"And then"?
Then he got ostracized see life can be wicked
Many faces can a man take but Romiel's it was pure when he got poisoned he smiled looking at his companion who was dying too they smiled to each other
The kids are in good hands

Die we will rise again this world will perish if I don't walk those streets
Rot where I don't garden I am the son of the Imam
Die we will rise again this world will perish if I don't walk those streets
Rot where I don't garden I am the son of the Imam
Die we will rise again this world will perish if I don't walk those streets
Rot where I don't garden I am the son of the Imam
Die we will rise again this world will perish if I don't walk those streets
Rot where I don't garden I am the son of the Imam

Seri was with the Gypsies he didn't know much of his father he was three when it had happened
But whoever would've told ya he'll be a genius
Plus The way of the shade wich was with his father showed in him but they knew him not too well and called it passion
Seri's passion
Wich gave Romiel two kids
Oum and Seri
Oum was Back from Ukraine when Ara was an adult he presentiated Mara's funeral with a smile and a thought
So when Ara started his tale to discover his roots he saw nothing but shade a voice said... "Walk if you are like the wolves bears snakes here they rest"



Credits
Writer(s): Ronnie Nkansah
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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