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Jones Keziah African Space Craft Prodigal Funk Ooowee, who to believe? Father's turned into a child Oh Lord have mercy on me Oh please look through my eyes Look through my eyes, it's no surprise Oh why do they treat you badly? When you sleep slaves know they're free Your pain is killing me Your shadow weeps in my room Weeps in my room, you aged too soon And now? It's the prodigal funk No-one knows where it's come from One wish one last fools wish Please show the blinded road, the blinded road And then I'll go Ooowe, who to believe? Mothers turned into fear Oh Lord have mercy on me Tell feeling to pull us near, to pull us near I promise I won't compare And now? A strangers at my door Offering me money to say some more Should I take the gold and run? Or should I play the prodigal funk, the prodigal funk See me gone Upon your crown of beautiful white hair I cried on My tears flowed where flowers don't dare To lie on or die on Because they know that Wherever the thruth is born The day will come Some say that black is despair But you shine on Some say Africa's going nowhere You proved them wrong, them wrong Cos they know wherever the truth is born The day will come, the day will come, the day will come. |
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