Steve Dalachinsky / Richard Comte / Makoto Sato / Itaru Oki
19 votes
Steve Dalachinsky - Poem, voiceRichard Comte - guitar, pianoItaru Oki. - Trumpet, flute
Try This
Mr. Bobby, by Afro Fiesta featuring I-Taweh
Mr. Bobby, by Afro Fiesta featuring I-Taweh
Shy (Satasha Torres)
Shy, by Satasha Torres
Taj Farrant and Warren Adams play the blues
Taj Farrant and Warren Adams play the blues
BROOKLYNN - i hate it here
On and on it goes i know It’s just a part of me Never ever been something I control How did we get here I fear I’m worried for my life Is it just a matter of time Before we go Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here The cycle carried on Just like a feather in the wind It was hard to trace it back But we knew it’d never end And the houses They were never ever built on sinking sand They were built on backs of men They were trying to break The kingdom grew and told those men That they were never great And they showed them only hate Anytime they were showcased Okay Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here There were bruises left in history They kept a mystery from us And the people that tried to break us They only feared us Because we were too free We were too free We were too free We were too free Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here
BROOKLYNN - i hate it here
On and on it goes i know It’s just a part of me Never ever been something I control How did we get here I fear I’m worried for my life Is it just a matter of time Before we go Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here The cycle carried on Just like a feather in the wind It was hard to trace it back But we knew it’d never end And the houses They were never ever built on sinking sand They were built on backs of men They were trying to break The kingdom grew and told those men That they were never great And they showed them only hate Anytime they were showcased Okay Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here There were bruises left in history They kept a mystery from us And the people that tried to break us They only feared us Because we were too free We were too free We were too free We were too free Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here