COME
TO ME Come to me Never end Help me manifest all my feelings I need to know who I am! Where do I belong? I want to be good since I have but one life - even if no one remembers flying high drinking deep of your love (screaming my fears away) Teach me always to smile That way I'll never grow old living forever on my solitary journey to the stars Come to me Don't go away... Who am I To whom do I belong I want to flow free blending in harmony with all that is good Living true finding what's real absolute love absolute grace I'll live like a wild dove I want to mix with the light I want to fill every where blending in harmony with all that is good |
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NINETY
WAYS
Ninety ways to show you my love is true to give you all that is good A million days and I'll still not get enough of you How many times must I say i love you to show you my love is true day and night I'll be at your beck and call to show you my love is true to give you all that is good Ninety ways... |
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(THE FEELING
MOVES ME) |
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THE
BUM (for Tony Curtis) The world may turn down upside down and wallets may fall out from my pocket friends may betray, my salvation delayed But I'll still strut around I'm a king-sized bum. My heart was made in spring in heaven My head was made in a halo called ego my loins were tempered with a fire called Eros Ah! let me strut and be happy here! (Things can't go worse for much longer!) |
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W.S
(Tribute to Wole Soyinka) To our shame did we succumb to the lesser man mediocrity ruled so veracity died stupidity was entrenched and we lost our superiority To our shame we shelved our beautiful name True it was that in the warmth of homes embrace surrounded by kith and kin, lofty words and their motions swayed our hearts and intoxicated our realities But always was it too cold outside and... In Lagos and her sisters - you would be a fool and your ideals your identifying cap.... So to cover our shame we succumbed (with the hypocrites) and mediocrity became our Fathers name... But scattered though scant especially at nights of unimportance 'the fools' in their caps (made ugly as gnomes) could be found in the back alleys of our forgotten slums... stripped of their dignity regaled for their honesty they mused without mirth at the country of their birth "We lof our Contree we no go lie" but old country was deep in sloths throes and sleep Then one October afternoon The gnomes had a full bright moon (I saw it!) twas before evening - well before seven when Wole Soyinka was shot into heaven Thank you Kongi |
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ITS MORNING Afternoon and
I'm all alone I'm not used to this heat With no money you get
scared Oh yeah! I'll be saying No! Screaming: Its morning |