| My old home smelled of good birth
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| Boiled red beans kernal oil and hand me down poetry
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| It’s brick white washed walls widdowed by first paint
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| The tin roof tops humm in songs of promise while time ends
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| Locked into demonic rythm with the leaves
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| The trees had the wind huggin them loving them a torturous love
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| Bug in wind it was over and done the the rounds ment to pocket
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| Kept the rain drops cool neighbours dwellers spatter in the pool
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| Kids playing football with a sand in a sock
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| We had what we got and it wasn’t alot
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| No one knew they were poor we were all inocent to grieve judgment
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| The country was combusing with life like a long hybernatin volcano
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| With a long tale of succes like j-lo farmers, fishers, fighters,
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| Even fools had a place in production teh coral reefs make your days
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| In reflection the costal line was the place of seduction
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| And women walked with grace and perfection
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| And we just knew we were warriors too nothing worried us too
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| We were glorious?
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| And one day it came
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| Spoiled the parade like rain
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| Like oil in a flame it pained
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| The heart attack sudden
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| Harder then livin
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| Harder then a punch in the woom
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| Harder then the lunch you consume for us
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| It had a cancerous fume war, lust
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| Men who made killing hobbiest
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| Sellin powerfully
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| Like healthy livestock
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| It made tides rock
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| With a diligent mock
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| Confused with the people
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| Infused in the evil
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| (profester) reject
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| Like jews in the sequal
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| So when it came in the morning
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| With a warning and without
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| The hearding was a burden
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| Only certain was dealt
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| A mythical tale
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| No soul knows well
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| Liberty went to hell
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| Freedom caught four shells
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| Fears was the bloke
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| Keep your to the show
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| It apears old will
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| Was right in 84
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| Half baked brother
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| Killed mother in a store
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| But all of us watching
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| But they don’t love her anymore
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| (peed) my poem
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| Mother was my old home
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| Good will is looted
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| In my old home
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| Religions is burnt down
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| In my old home
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| Kindness is shacklled
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| In my old home
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| Justice has been raped
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| In my old home
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| Murderers hold post
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| In my old home
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| The land vomits ghosts
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| In my old home
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| We got pistols with eyes
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| Curuption and lies
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| Trust us snakes
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| And death without breaks
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| Suspicious new borns
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| Live in the horn
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| We used to teh pain
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| Rack bodies
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| Not grain
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| Chop limbs
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| Not trees
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| Spend lies
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| Not wealth
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| Seek vengance
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| Not truth
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| The craziest youth
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| Moist pains
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| Are plans
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| .nigga fuck your plans
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| Bandits are leaders down
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| In my old home
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| Rooms are a
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| In my old home
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| Seditives of faith
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| In my old home
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| Rapers are praised
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| In my old home
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| Demons dress well
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| In my old home
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| Infants are nailed
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| In my old home
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| Spirits are jailed
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| In my old home
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| Grudges grow tails
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| In my old home
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| Our roads have seen electric hate and
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| Our women labour, but need no invadin
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| Our farms produce giulty grubin
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| Our kids depend on shifty luck see
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| Our news is like «for death is all»
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| Don’t blame me for the truth I’ve told
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| Good will is looted
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| In my old home
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| Religions is burnt down
|
| In my old home
|
| Kindness is shacklled
|
| In my old home
|
| Justice has been raped
|
| In my old home
|
| Murderers hold post
|
| In my old home
|
| The land vomits ghosts
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| In my old home |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song My Old Home , by - K'NAAN. Song from the album The Dusty Foot Philosopher, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп