| I’m the shining star
|
| Lightning spark
|
| Camberwell carrots
|
| I can see the in dark
|
| Cupid’s arrow lodged deep in my heart
|
| Love for the art
|
| Gifted; |
| the way I’m so swift with the dart
|
| Lifting the cup
|
| I’m a champion
|
| You love to see me live it up
|
| That’s why I can’t ever give it up
|
| Put your hands together
|
| Give it up!
|
| Ain’t nothing pretty in this city, for real
|
| But we can put our heads together if you’re willing to build
|
| I see a vision of Elysian Fields
|
| Another day in the life of Mr William Shields
|
| We’re slum villagers
|
| Drunk off of miniatures
|
| Fuck the ministers
|
| And the crumbs that they’re giving us
|
| Behind the bars with political prisoners
|
| Conspiracies to limit us to indigenous listeners
|
| And tone down the content
|
| Water down the accent
|
| And dumb down the image on some Jazz-hand theatrics
|
| Singing and dancing in a top hat
|
| The belle of the ball
|
| I keep it street like Top Cat
|
| And Benny The Ball
|
| Silique of a penniless fool
|
| Living on the edge
|
| Ready to fall
|
| Down again
|
| And this time I might not pick myself back up
|
| Dust myself down, and put it down to luck
|
| Life is a cruel mistress
|
| She’s down to make love
|
| But she ain’t down to fuck
|
| Your body buckled by the pain
|
| Struggling in vain, wondering how to maintain
|
| Neighbours strung out on Crack-Cocaine
|
| They switch-up the story
|
| But the facts don’t change
|
| They remain
|
| Simple and plain
|
| It’s no use
|
| Groundhog Day
|
| You stay stuck in the loop
|
| And nobody’s giving up the loot
|
| Play to win
|
| But it’s Trivial Pursuits
|
| False promises, and fool’s gold
|
| From out the cracks in the concrete
|
| A stone rose
|
| And freedom is so close I can taste it
|
| But never close enough for me to fully embrace it
|
| A lifestyle so basic
|
| Let’s face it |