The Rasta Years As the wind blows thru my dreadlocks Caressing my Jamaican face DÃ-jÃ-vu feelings take me back To a distant time and place To a time of Rastafari And Iya-binghi chants A time of ital living Before my heart transplant Before I fled to Babylon To chase an American dream Before I lost my passion My youth and self-esteem Back then I was a warrior Proud, fierce and strong Relentless in my struggles A righteous Rasta man I remember Rasta brethren Youth and elder dreads And Rastafari sisters In colorful tie-heads Going to Rasta meetings Dreads stuffed under tams Rasta celebrations JahLoveMuzik jams Back then things were cheaper But funds were always low Still we dressed so regal That you would never know Yes those were the lean years When I & I was poor But idrin shared with idrin And no one kept a score Some would have a spliff to share Some a chalice load Some ital food or change to spare Before man hit the road Now those days are far long gone And the ways we used to live And a different struggle pushes me on In a land that dont forgive I struggle now with paying rent A phone bill and car note Winters high utility rates And wifeys new fur coat Times and places all have changed But memories still remain Of Rasta vibes and Rasta lives That Ill never see again Yes, as a cool breeze filters through My graying natty dread I glimpse a life that I once knew And a Rasta tear is shed Bless!
Posted on: Wed, 10 Dec 2014 04:37:38 +0000
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