Duco Box Rasta
My forefathers are buildings in the sand
They left a thousand ruins across the land
I love them deep like salt, they feel bitter on my skin
I believe in pleasure, they believe in sin
In their castles, unaware of time
They are standing still like statues moist with slime
Melodies of gardens, memories of war
I can't hear their voices anymore
Listen to the crying in the streets
All the lonely people that you meet
Children of the change, caught like rats in a trap
But the little ones are dancing to the Duco Box Rap
Dancing with the free man, dancing with the foe
wishing I was yellow man, wishing I was Omo
Got to feel the breathing of faces as they smile
Got to run for cover on the golden mile
Now we're dancing to the beat of the rock and roll
The feeling of the mood in your soul, in your soul
I believe in ganja, I believe in Jah
I'm bopping to the beat of the Duco Box Rasta
We're running for our lives in the gutters of the 'Brow
we've eating from the scraps of the black man's chow
We've been living on the edge of the silent sea
we've been raised on the smoking of the Beatnik tree
We were victims of the struggle, and victims of apartheid
But we've got to reach the sun before it gets too late
We're crazy with belief, we are mad with disgrace
for we bore the brute disdain of the whole human race
Listen to the jungle, rap-a-tap-tap
The boogie boogie bungle, rap-a-tap-clap trap
listen to the beat of the people in the street
The shaking of the castanets, the moving feet
Blessed are the prophets of rock and roll
And the feeling of the mood in your soul, in your soul
Do you believe in ganja, do you believe in Jah?
Are you bopping to the beat of the Duco Box Rasta, man?
Song For Harry or Harry's Song
There's a blonde woman standing in the shade
I've got a friend called Harry who thinks he's got it made
I know the joker's up your sleeve, they're taking trains to everywhere
I've been so hungry for your lies, Harry are you there?
There's a late night rambler drowning in a beer
The prostitutes in Cuba charge service fees for wear and tear
The loneliness of love, the bitterness of yesteryear
I'm desperate to be a nobody, Harry, Harry take me there
I've been living in the shadows of addiction and despair
But I've got a friend called Harry. Harry are you there?
And do you really care?
One more Summer on the beach, one more Winter in the can
Standing on the street-corner feeling like a man
But Harry's always restless. Harry wants his share
I'm running from him daily. Harry, Harry it's not fair
I've been living in the shadows of addiction and despair
But I've got a friend called Harry. Harry are you there?
And do you really care?
Everybody knows him, he's got contacts everywhere
It's no use getting married, or moving to John Foster's Square
He's the friend of crooks and lepers, and the enemy of fresh air
Nowhere to go, no deal to cut if Harry's is not there
I've been living in the shadows of addiction and despair
But I had a friend called Harry. Harry are you there?
And you don't really care?
Transcribed by:
My forefathers are buildings in the sand
They left a thousand ruins across the land
I love them deep like salt, they feel bitter on my skin
I believe in pleasure, they believe in sin
In their castles, unaware of time
They are standing still like statues moist with slime
Melodies of gardens, memories of war
I can't hear their voices anymore
Listen to the crying in the streets
All the lonely people that you meet
Children of the change, caught like rats in a trap
But the little ones are dancing to the Duco Box Rap
Dancing with the free man, dancing with the foe
wishing I was yellow man, wishing I was Omo
Got to feel the breathing of faces as they smile
Got to run for cover on the golden mile
Now we're dancing to the beat of the rock and roll
The feeling of the mood in your soul, in your soul
I believe in ganja, I believe in Jah
I'm bopping to the beat of the Duco Box Rasta
We're running for our lives in the gutters of the 'Brow
we've eating from the scraps of the black man's chow
We've been living on the edge of the silent sea
we've been raised on the smoking of the Beatnik tree
We were victims of the struggle, and victims of apartheid
But we've got to reach the sun before it gets too late
We're crazy with belief, we are mad with disgrace
for we bore the brute disdain of the whole human race
Listen to the jungle, rap-a-tap-tap
The boogie boogie bungle, rap-a-tap-clap trap
listen to the beat of the people in the street
The shaking of the castanets, the moving feet
Blessed are the prophets of rock and roll
And the feeling of the mood in your soul, in your soul
Do you believe in ganja, do you believe in Jah?
Are you bopping to the beat of the Duco Box Rasta, man?
Song For Harry or Harry's Song
There's a blonde woman standing in the shade
I've got a friend called Harry who thinks he's got it made
I know the joker's up your sleeve, they're taking trains to everywhere
I've been so hungry for your lies, Harry are you there?
There's a late night rambler drowning in a beer
The prostitutes in Cuba charge service fees for wear and tear
The loneliness of love, the bitterness of yesteryear
I'm desperate to be a nobody, Harry, Harry take me there
I've been living in the shadows of addiction and despair
But I've got a friend called Harry. Harry are you there?
And do you really care?
One more Summer on the beach, one more Winter in the can
Standing on the street-corner feeling like a man
But Harry's always restless. Harry wants his share
I'm running from him daily. Harry, Harry it's not fair
I've been living in the shadows of addiction and despair
But I've got a friend called Harry. Harry are you there?
And do you really care?
Everybody knows him, he's got contacts everywhere
It's no use getting married, or moving to John Foster's Square
He's the friend of crooks and lepers, and the enemy of fresh air
Nowhere to go, no deal to cut if Harry's is not there
I've been living in the shadows of addiction and despair
But I had a friend called Harry. Harry are you there?
And you don't really care?
Transcribed by: