K’naan - My Old Home lyrics

So yeah, basically
A lot of people ask me how life was then
So here it is

My old home smelled of good birth
Boiled red beans
Kernel oil and hand me down poetry
It's brick white-washed walls widowed
By first paint
The tin roof top humming songs
Of promise while time is
Locked into demonic rhythm with the leaves
The trees had to win
Hugging them, loving them a torturous love
Buggin' when it was over and done
The round cemented pot kept
The rain drops cool
Neighbors and dwellers spatter in the pool
Kids playin football with his hand and sock
We had what we got, and it wasn't a lot
No one knew they were poor
We were all innocent to greeze judgement
The country was combusting with life
Like a long hibernating volcano
With a long tale of success like J-Lo
Farmers, fishers, fighters
Even fools had a place in production
The costal line was the place of seduction
The coral reef make you daze in reflection
The women walked with grace and perfection
And we just knew we were warriors too
Nothing morbid, it's true we were glorious
BOOM!

Then one day it came
Spoiled up a ray like rain
Like oil in a flame, it pained
The heart attack sudden odder than eleven
Harder than a punch in the womb
Harder than the lunch you consume
For us, it had a cancerous fume, more lust
Men who made killing hoggies
Selling prout fully like healthy livestock
It made tides rock with a dilegent mock
Confused are the people, infused in the evil
Professed to eject like Jews in the sequel
To win it came in the morning
With a warning and without
The hurting was a burden
Only certain was doubt
A mythical tale, no soul knows well
Liberty went to hell
Freedom called for shells
Fierce was the blow
Keep your ears to the show
It appears Orwell was right in '84
Had big brother kill Mother in her store
With all of us watching
We didn't love her anymore

Peep my poem, Mother was my old home
Good will is looted - in my old home
Religion is burned down - in my old home
Kindness is shackled - in my old home
Justice has been raped - in my old home
Murderers hold post - in my old home
The land vomit's ghosts - in my old home

We got pistols with eyes, corruption and lies
Trusting snakes, and death without breaks
Suspicious new borns live in our horn
Used to the pain, rack bodies not grain
Chopped limbs not trees
Spend lives not wealth
Seek vengance not truth, the craziest youth
Hoist pain not plans
Nigga' fuck your parents

Bandit's will beat us down - in my old home
Rumors are law now - in my old home
Sedatives of faith - in my old home
Rapists are praised - in my old home
Demons rest well - in my old home
Infants are nailed - in my old home
Spirit's are jailed - in my old home
Grudges grow tails - in my old home

High roads of sea in electric haiden
Outward labor beneath stubborn faith
Our farms produce guilty grub and
Our kids depend on shifty luck, see
Our muse is life for death is old, so
Don't blame me for truth I told, say

Good will is looted - in my old home
Religion is burned down - in my old home
Kindness is shackled - in my old home
Justice has been raped - in my old home
Murderers hold post - in my old home
The land vomit's ghosts - in my old home