E per quello che sta avvenendo in questi giorni in Missouri, dopo luccisione di un giovane ragazzo afro-americano di St. Luois da parte della polizia, una canzone di Ben Harper dedicata a Rodney King, (altro cittadino afro-americano assassinato dalla polizia nel 1992) e alle Los Angeles Riots... listen and read Like A King / Ill Rise Well Martins dream has become Rodneys worst nightmare. Cant walk the streets, to them we are fair game, our lives dont mean a thing. Like a King, like a King, like a King. Rodney King, Rodney King, Rodney King. Like a king, like a King, like a King. How I wish you could help us Dr. King. Make sure its filmed, shown on national T.V. Theyll have no mercy. A legal lynch mob like the days strung up from the tree. The L.A.P.D. Like a King, like a King, like a King. Rodney King, Rodney King, Rodney King. Like a King, like a King, like a King. How I wish you could help us Dr. King. So if you catch yourself thinking it has changed for the best you better second guess cause Martins dream has become Rodneys worst nightmare. Like a King, like a King, like a King. Rodney King, Rodney King, Rodney King. Like a King, like a King, like a King How I wish you could help us Dr. King. Like a King, like a King, like a King. Like a King, like a King, like a King. Like a King, like a King, like a King. How I wish... Like a King, like a King. Like a King, like a King, like a, like a King. Like a King, like a King, like a King. When we will look to the past, look to the past to learn? I wish... Like a king, like a king, like a king. Like a king, like a king, like a king. Bye, bye we must go to see the King. Bye, bye we must go to face the King. You may write me down in history with your bitter twisted lies, you may trod me down in the very dirt. And still like the dust, Ill rise. Does my happiness upset you? Why are you best with gloom cause I laugh, like Ive got an oil well pumpin in my living room? So you may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, and Ill rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise. Out of the shacks of historys shame, up from a past rooted in pain, and Ill rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise. Now did you want to see me broken, bowed head and lowered eyes, shoulders fallen down like teardrops, weakened by my soulful cries. Does my confidence upset you? Dont you take it awful hard cause I walk, like Ive got a diamond mine breakin up in my front yard. So you may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, and Ill rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise. Out of the shacks of historys shame, up from a past rooted in pain, and Ill rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise. So you may write me down in history with your bitter twisted lies. You may trod me down in the very dirt. And still like the dust, Ill rise. Does my happiness upset you? Why are you best with gloom cause I laugh, like Ive got a goldmine diggin up in my living room. You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, and Ill rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise. Out of the shacks of historys shame, up from a past rooted in pain, and Ill rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise. You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, and Ill rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise. Out of the shacks of historys shame, up from a past rooted in pain, Ill rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise. I gonna rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise. Ill rise - Ill rise - Ill rise - rise - rise
Posted on: Fri, 15 Aug 2014 11:27:02 +0000
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