Blues for the Horn

In a conservative form
I wanna ask you a few things before I conform
To the popular belief about where I was born
Are they still illin', still killin' poppin' the corn?
How's the horn, how's the love wavin' the ocean morn'?
How 'bout the young, do they still possess the poetry tongue?
And do they still greet sincere like the depth of the lung"
How's the nomad, did the herd graze well this year?
From the news to what I know, the growin' gap ain't clear!
How's the earth, how are the stars under we converse?
Do you still await on change like a new moon's birth?
Does it still flood ancient wisdom parallel with blood?
Do you still see the pain of vision holy/only scriptkeeper?
Or did you fight off the plight of the colonized mind?
What of the rainy season, do the kids still bury seeds?
And get taken with uncertainty like me scared of leavin? '
How are the poets, the women and the orphans torn?
I miss 'em all like, old opportunities gone
What of the elders, story tellers in abandoned homes
Miss 'em all like childhood, reminisce with songs
Disputes, do they still settle 'em by bloodying shoes?
Fist rules, rather finger equipped with sick tools
What of the wind, I recall it was serenity's end
When the breeze would come and the trees would bend
And the people would say "look what it leads with sin".
And the air was violent and our care was silent
And the only law we bore was of pair of tyrants
Man you know, this is why I'm down in deep indigo
And I sleep really poor, on the circumstance floor
Anyway, how's stress, does it still rule your chest?
Do the camps still rape girls without breasts?
How are moms, are they still screaming "put away the arms"?
And against the dispossession of their family-owned farms
How are the many rivers and the lakes and the seas?
Are they still angry with us for our poisonous deeds?
and the lakes and the seas
for our poisonous deeds
[CHORUS]
This is my blues for the horn, for the horn
This is my blues for the horn, for the horn
This is my blues for the horn, for the horn
So who's dead and who's alive, did the rates multiply?
Did the poor fight the drought with their minimum supply?

Did the warlords abort the wars and force support? or did peace depart to promote disease and ease in increased divorce?
What of police and courts, are we still "heathen force"?
Leaking pores untreated lead to the bleeding corpse.
What of the kind and good, can they still, laugh intensely
like the mind that would, or is it innocense lost from where the iron stood?
And what of the playwrights, reflection on escapes to great sights
Revolution from power's the writings of brave fights
Despite the luxury that you hear we live by
Out here we're refuges and niggas ain't share right, and
Don't you play soccer by the ocean front?
In America, I shovel the snow while I'm smoking blunts
You mean to tell me that you out there still totin' guns?
Bloating sons of the hardened, hardly copin' moms
Damn you and circumstance too I can't stand you
You make a mockery of our struggle like hollywood plans do
And I swear to god I wish you hell, burn and bake too
And I curse the Europeans who instigated you worse
And I curse the Russians who impregnated the kalashnikov birth
and hurts you never wake and see the destiny
It's like the conflict of self, submerged in satanic hate
Remember eatin' food, walking back in hot sun from school
Bare feet, the hot sand, massaging our feet is
'Cause now my mother slips on the ice and her back is weak.
And I feel like a failure, a mute in the age of speech,
look at me, yo! look at me, look dead in the eyes
don't flinch, you are an accomplice to great white lies
i can't even begin to express how breakdown and stressed
i gotta live to tell, give me a bullet-proof vest
[CHORUS]
This is my blues for the horn, for the horn
This is my blues for the horn, for the horn
This is my blues for the horn, for the horn