By Gene Wilkes
Not me under the trees again,
Ah 'fraid manicou pee on me.
So any time you see me there
Is because they let me in free.
They rob me twice in succession
With shows they had last carnival,
So I make up mih mind since then
I eh going back there at all.
Machel Montano din show up,
And had patrons angry like hell;
David Rudder was very hoarse
And was a very poor chantwell.
"King David" just like Jemima,
The girl with the curl dong she forrid,
When he good, he extremely good,
But when he bad, he damn horrid!
So daiz it for me and Rudder,
Ah sorry to have to say so,
Now, anytime he performing
They go ha' to pay me to go.
It happening much too often -
Advertised artistes don't perform...
No refund, no apology,
In sweet T&T that's the norm.
At Plymouth Jazz, two years ago,
Toni Braxton didn't appear,
But patrons, though disrespected,
Still went back the following year.
Not me ! They cyar take my money
And treat me with scant courtesy,
Now, when I visit Tobago
Is to lime and bathe in the sea.
Another place me eh going
Is dem so called calypso tent...
'Cause either they ponging Panday,
Or they praising the government.
Few calypsonians entertain
With melody, humour and wit,
Too many still in the toilet...
Ah find is time they finishit!
At Central Bank Auditorium
Is in the road you have to park,
All kinda touts does hassle you
If you dare go there after dark.
They swear they have security,
But patrons had to face the plight
Of a stinkin' dutty vagrant
Ushering them inside one night.
So that is yet another place
That is now on my NO GO list,
So many places with pleasures
That I'm sad to say will be missed.
© Copyright – Gene Wilkes, Cocoyea.
Posted with the kind permission of the poet.
VIEW ALL WORKS SUBMITTED BY THIS AUTHOR.
Robbery Under De Trees
Trinidad, The Land Of Calypso [Song]
Uploaded by Nicole Elias
TRINIDAD, THE LAND OF CALYPSO
By The Roaring Lion
People are interested to know where calypso originated
People are interested to know where calypso originated
Some say it came from Cuba, some said British Guyana
Some contend seriously it was sung by Moses crossing the Red Sea.
But ah told dem...
Chorus:
No, no, oh, no, Trinidad is the land of Calypso
No, no, oh no, Trinidad is the land of Calypso.
It was a serious contention that was causing some real confusion
Some said it’s Japanese or the folksong of ancient Chinese
A fellow said he is certain Delilah used to sing calypso to Sampson
One said he heard when Nero was burning Rome, he sang calypso.
But ah told him...
Chorus:
No, no, oh, no, Trinidad is the Land of Calypso
No, no, oh, no, Trinidad is the Land of Calypso.
One said that in India they sung calypso when charming cobra
Another said that Elijah sang calypso in the chariot of fire
They argued with one another, trying to find out the owner
They mention every country, all but the land of La Trinity
But ah told dem...
Chorus:
No, no, oh, no, Trinidad is the Land of Calypso
No, no, oh, no, Trinidad is the Land of Calypso.
Extra verse:
Excitement reached such a tempo when I said that the calypso
Is an ancient French ballad that was adapted by Trinidad
A fellow said if you please, it was sung by Espinosa and Socrates
And Hannibal sang a calypso when crossing the Alps to meet Scipio...
Chorus:
No, no, oh, no, Trinidad is the Land of Calypso
Jump high, jump low, Trinidad is the Land of Calypso.
Uploaded by ListenForLife1
Source: The lyrics posted on this blog are often transcribed directly from performances. Although it is my intention to faithfully transcribe I do not get all the words and I have a knack for hearing the wrong thing. Please feel free to correct me or to fill in the words that I miss by dropping me a message via e-mail. I'd be forever grateful. Thanks in advance!
..............................................................................................................................
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Saturday, May 19, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 12:14 AM 0 comments
Sex In De City [Poem]
SEX IN DE CITY
By Gene Wilkes
We shocked that the Pasta daughter
Play sheself for the world to see,
But do we parents regulate
What kids see and hear on TV?
They getting sex education
From Hugh Hefner and Howard Stern,
Then from Machel and Saucy Wow
Trini wining techniques they learn.
Children watching television
Every night here in T&T,
Synergy, Tempo, B.E.T.
VH1, MTV and E.
Six channels of entertainment
That some people would call soft porn,
And all the ads about safe sex
Make youths eager to get it on.
Music videos and game boys
With lewd or scurrilous content
Encourage girls to be sexy
And boys to be violent.
Spring break in the United States
Is the season for "Girls Gone Wild",
And if perchance they get pregnant
It easy to throw way de child.
Orgies take place in the streets
Every year at Carnival time,
But Pasta Daughter do she ting...
Suddenly it is a big crime.
Akon had dry sex wid de gyul
Who thought she was getting a chance
To win a trip to Africa
When she went up on stage to dance.
Encouraged by screaming patrons
He proceeded to have his way,
To the delight of hypocrites
Who criticising her today.
But ent jam and wine and dog jook
Are aspects of "we culture" too?
So how come all de cangcalang,
Why then all the hullaballoo?
'Cause half ah we who criticise
And have all kinda ting to say,
Does perform de same dutty dance
On the streets on Carnival day.
Strip tease on Manzanilla beach
Was performed for children to see,
Some years ago on Ash Wednesday,
Starting Lent with pornography.
Two-knees and Four-knees were exposed
In a dance that was quite obscene,
Policemen just held their batons..
And not one tried to intervene.
The lyrics of most soca songs
Does promote promiscuity,
Then the singers soothe their conscience
Warning we about HIV.
On-stage antics of performers
Are focussed on bumsee and crotch,
And with so mucha flesh exposed
Every hot boy tempted to touch.
By rubbing two sticks together
We all know you could start a flame.
Human frottage eh no different,
It will get you hot just the same.
Education is the answer,
According to the Condom Crew,
As long as you practise safe sex
STDs won't happen to you.
But all yuh sex education
Will certainly fly out the door,
When hormones bring to conclusion
What was started on the dance floor.
So if you feeling self righteous
And you want to go and pelt stone,
Pause, and examine yuh conscience...
Leave punishment to God alone.
© Copyright – Gene Wilkes, Cocoyea.
Posted with the kind permission of the poet.
VIEW ALL WORKS SUBMITTED BY THIS AUTHOR.
.............................................................................................
A Note From The Gull
Gene, I'd been wondering what you would say about this most recent public incident, especially after your last submission prior to Carnival this year. I've been thinking about the concerns you expressed in your "Play Mas', Doh Play de Ass" and feeling grateful that in all things, you continue to avoid the path of least resistance. Whether you are taking a stand to express unpopular truths or refusing to join in the stone throwing when an easy target has been identified, I admire your quest for the right questions to ask and answer with honesty.
Thank you, Gene Wilkes.
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Saturday, May 12, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 10:52 AM 0 comments
High Mas' I [Song]
Uploaded by 321tttrinidadian
HIGH MAS' I
Composed and performed by David Rudder
Give praise children, give praise
Give praise children, yeah, give praise
Give praise children yeah, give praise
Give praise children.
Antiphon:
Call: Our Father who has given use this art so that we can all feel like we are part of this earthly heaven.
Response: Amen.
Call: Forgive us this day our daily weakness as we seek to cast down mortal burdens on your city.
Response: Amen.
Call: Oh, merciful Father, in this bacchanal season when men lose their reason, but most of us just want to wine and have a good time ‘cause we are looking for a lime because we feeling fine, Lord.
Response: Amen.
Call: And as we jump up and down in this crazy town, send us some music for some healing.
Response: Amen.
Chorus:
Everybody hand raise.
Everybody give praise.
Everybody hand raise.
And if you know what ah mean, put up yuh finger
And if you know what ah mean, put up you hand
And if you know what ah mean, put up yuh finger
And if you know what ah mean, then scream...
Oh oh, give Jah His praises
Oh oh, let Jah be praised
Oh, the Father in His mercy
He send a little music to make to make we vibration great.
So Carnival day, everybody come and celebrate, yeah
Every come and celebrate
See de ragamuffins congregate, yeah
Everybody come and celebrate.
And every body say, “Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah love mih country”
Let me hear you saying, “Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah feeling irie.
Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah love mih county.”
Well let me hear you say, “Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah feeling irie.”
Antiphon:
Call: Our Father who has given us love so we can all feel a part of your heaven
Response: Amen.
Call: Forgive us today our daily weaknesses as we seek to cast down mortal burdens on Your city
Response: Amen.
Call: On this lovely day when we come out to play and we come out to sway and we breaking away, some will say what they have to say, but only You know the pain we’re feeling.
Response: Amen.
Call: As it was in the beginning of J’Ouvert, good vibes ‘til Carnival Tuesday ending.
Response: Amen
Chorus:
Check it out!
Everybody hand raise.
Everybody give praise.
Everybody hand raise.
And if you know what ah mean, put up yuh finger
And if you know what ah mean, put up you hand
And if you know what ah mean, put up yuh finger
Well if you know what ah mean, then scream...
Oh oh, give Jah His praises
Oh oh, let Jah be praised
Oh oh, the Father in His mercy
He send a little soca to make we vibration great.
So Carnival day, everybody come and celebrate, yeah
Every come and celebrate, yeah
See de ragamuffins congregate, yeah
Everybody come and celebrate
And every body say, “Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah love mih country
Let me hear you saying, “Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah feeling irie.
Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah love mih country.”
So let me hear you singing, “Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah feeling irie.”
“Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah love mih country”
Let me hear you saying, “Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah feeling irie.
"Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah love mih country.”
“Ey ey ey, ey ey ey, ah feeling irie.”
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Monday, February 19, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 12:11 PM 2 comments
Carnival Is Bacchanal [Song]
CARNIVAL IS BACCHANAL
By Lord Caresser
Carnival is a bacchanal
So we don’t care!
It’s a creole fete that we can’t forget, doudou
So we don’t care!
We going to start the amusement in the tent
So we don’t care!
Go with mih bottle and spoon when ah play the tune, doudou
We don’t care!
Caresser ent no millionaire
But we don’t care!
I’m a young creole so brave and bold
So we don’t care!
But when a tambu play, yuh going to hear me say
We don’t care!
Some people say it ent no holiday
But we don’t care!
I going to have mih day, I eh working no wey
Oh we doh care!
Drinking mih rum when I’m feeling numb, doudou
We don’t care!
Tumblin’ down, rollin’ around
Oh we don’t care!
With a shouting here and a fighting there, doudou
We don’t care!
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Sunday, February 18, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 10:04 AM 0 comments
Play Mas', Doh Play De Ass
By Gene Wilkes
How come we shocked when school children
Partaking in pornography,
When we doh try to regulate
What kids see and hear on TV?
They getting "Sex Education"
From Hugh Hefner and Howard Stern,
Then from Machel and Saucy Wow
Trini wining techniques they learn.
Destra dare man to test she wine,
Suggesting simulated sex,
Den she tun rong and tell schoolgirls
Pornography does get she vex.
We idolise woman bam bam
So all man want to take ah taste,
Adolescents' rite of passage
Is their prowess in throwin' waist.
Dancing for most men is foreplay,
A preview of what's to be done,
And when they find ting getting hard
They mus' get dey satisfaction.
The lyrics of most party songs
Does promote promiscuity,
Then the singers soothe their conscience
Warning we about HIV.
On-stage antics of performers
Does focus on bumsee and crotch,
And wid so mucha flesh exposed
Everybody "Tempted to Touch".
When you rub two sticks together
Ent yuh know yuh could start a flame?
Human frottage eh no different,
It will get you hot all the same.
Education is the answer,
According to the Condom Crew,
As long as you practise safe sex
STDs won't happen to you.
So enjoy yuh carnival, people,
But please play it safe, all you do,
Remember, if you slip you slide,
And de Devil go do for you.
We people of the Trinity
Must humble, pray and seek God's face,
Try to turn from we wicked ways,
If we want Him to heal this place.
© Copyright – Gene Wilkes, Cocoyea.
Posted with the kind permission of the poet.
VIEW ALL WORKS SUBMITTED BY THIS AUTHOR.
.............................................................................................
A Note From The Gull
This poem makes its arguments well. Mr. Wilkes looks at the big picture to consider the simple physics of slippage. Great wheels are set in motion by the removal of little chocks, and often with a runaway speed that leaves us aghast. Like the question asked by Chalkdust, "Wey all dem bandit come from?" in his Bandit Factory and Jeremy Taylor in his Stop the Carnival , "Everywhere, people ask how things have come to this pass, how their beloved country could be turning so ugly…”, Mr. Wilkes opens with,
"How come we shocked when school children
Partaking in pornography,
When we doh try to regulate
What kids see and hear on TV?""
Mr. Wilkes is perplexed by our wide-eyed consternation which laments the present situation without taking responsibility for our contribution. In this poem, the focus is on sexuality and the consequences of the manner in which it is presented in our society, but the underlying criticism of double standards could be applied to all areas of our lives.
Readers will appreciate that Mr. Wilkes is among those who hold fast to some traditional mores which many Trinbagonians have long discarded. The problem, as far as I see, is that at this point in time we are all caught between that process of "the discarding" and "the not knowing" exactly how to proceed from there. While it may be liberating to shake off "the old ways," are we really prepared for life without their stabilizing, some might say, stultifying presence? So while the argument can be made that there is nothing inherently wrong with "dutty wining", and it is in the eye of the prudish or aroused beholder, that the taint is applied, the fact remains that for most of us, old values die hard and even while we are applauding or going-along-to-get-along; taint, rather than glory is what registers. Without clear rules, the terrain of acceptable behaviour has become extremely complicated to negotiate.
Those, like Mr. Wilkes and myself, who try to uphold more conservative values and are convinced that we have, more often than not, proven their underlying logic in our own lives, will look upon these displays with anything from sadness to disgust. The apparent synchronicity between this loss of traditional values and the state of chaos in which we find ourselves, may be shrugged off as mere coincidence by some, but to others it is definite proof that their time honoured beliefs/concerns are vindicated/justified.
Some who have dispensed with these rules, will simply accept any expression in dance for what it is and move on with a smile of appreciation or wonder or amusement. Those among them who are aggressive to begin with and maybe also because they are making value judgments (It wines like a whore so it must be a whore), will jump to the conclusion that that wine is an open invitation. If the woman attracts unwelcome advances or worse as a result of her behaviour, there are those, even among her cohorts, who will say that she looked for it. If a child is seen in public imitating these antics, the outrage or applause is even greater. There are those who will congratulate children on their skill in this area but those who hold more traditional values will see this (and on this I have to agree) as opening the door for trouble. In a society where child abuse is already a problem, we should not allow adults even more opportunities for exploitation whether in fantasy or action. A child's, "No" is more easily ignored than that of an adult.
Whoever told us that it is possible to juggle double standards and a healthy society, also forget to teach us exactly how to accomplish this feat. Some of us have responded by becoming expert at leading double lives, and many of us, especially our young people, do not have the tools to make distinctions between how things are fed to us and the reality for which we are personally responsible.
"Destra dare man to test she wine,
Suggesting simulated sex,
Den she tun rong and tell schoolgirls
Pornography does get she vex."
So while Saucy Wow's titillating gyrations are accepted as low art, or as God's gift to mankind, or yet another aspect of our exotic culture, or as a celebration of female pulchritude, liberation and sexual prowess, or has managed to leave its skid marks on the national consciousness simply by virtue of the persistence of its rubbings, the fact remains that some cheering onlookers, especially among the younger women, forget or simply haven't been told that off the stage, there are still very few places where this behaviour is appropriate, and many more places where it could instead threaten a woman's wellbeing. I don't mean to pick on Saucy. She is just one of many, and not just in Trinbago, who are willing to make spectacles of themselves for attention and gain. Very often these are the same individuals who can casually blame their admirers for being led into temptation, for how they decide to act upon such stimulation. After all, "We big an’ have sense."
"On-stage antics of performers
Does focus on bumsee and crotch,
And wid so mucha flesh exposed
Everybody "Tempted to Touch"."
and
"When you rub two sticks together
Ent yuh know yuh could start a flame?
Human frottage eh no different,
It will get you hot all the same."
I had been thinking about this topic recently, and not because we are in Carnival mode but during and after viewing the music video for "Sumintra". The obvious shyness of the young lady who represents Sumintra, her companions, and Rikki Jai himself, took me back to another time when there was that sensitivity, that code of propriety that governed the way people danced in public. The knees and feet didn't stray too far from each other, the feet weren't raised too high off the ground, elbows often returned to the dancer's sides. Yes, the dancer still danced to and appreciated the rhythm, and it was possible within these boundaries to display skill and share enjoyment. There was a quiet synergy between the dancer and the music. Opportunities for Maticoor Night type displays had always existed but we understood that there was a time and place for them. Now, it often seems that dancers are out to outdo, for everyone to see, the excesses that the guttural songs and music urge.
"Adolescents' rite of passage
Is their prowess in throwin' waist."
The poet concludes,
"We people of the Trinity
Must humble, pray and seek God's face,
Try to turn from we wicked ways,
If we want Him to heal this place."
There are people who might not be comfortable with the concept of a God entity to whom we have recourse, to whom we can pray, and they should simply translate Mr. Wilkes' advice into a call for some honest introspection (God is in us already). Some people might have (or pretend to have) difficulty agreeing on what exactly are "wicked ways" but again, if we are honest, we can judge wickedness by its fruits.
The final "If we want Him to heal this place", says it all. Since God helps those who help themselves, this line with its "If" is of particular significance. The question remains, "Do we really want this place to be healed, or is the present crisis the not surprising outcome of decades of accumulated undervaluing, neglect of and disdain for the wellbeing of Trinbago and its people?
In High Mas I, David Rudder addresses Jah,
"On this lovely day when we come out to play and we come out to sway and we breaking away, some will say what they have to say, but only You know the pain we’re feeling.
Amen."
I don't think that he is condoning vulgarity but if there had to be an apology for our actions, I would borrow his words, since I believe that very often dissipation is a symptom of and temporary fix for underlying emptiness and pain. Why else would we be hell bent on 'breaking away'(breaking away from what?), 'freeing up' (freeing ourselves from what?), "waving like we just don't care" (don't care about what?) What is this discomfort, this pain that we must deny/defy/defuse? Is resorting to this exaggerated expression an attempt to flaunt in the face of our impotence, and against all the odds, a most potent aspect of our humanity? Is this the straw which we throw to our drowning selves? Is this how we prove to all detractors, ourselves included, that we are still here and very much alive? Is the preoccupation with sex and public displays of our sexuality a symptom of our upheaval and the loss of control over other aspects of our lives? Do we suspect that partying, sex and violence are the only arenas left to us in which we can give free expression to our creativity/frustration?
OR.....Why Guanaguanare doh just shut he big trap and leh people play deyself out here?! Tinginniki, tinginikki....De more dey try to do we bad is de harder we go wine in Trinidad?...
Thank you, Gene Wilkes.
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Friday, February 16, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 3:57 PM 0 comments
Labels: Carnival, sexual promiscuity, values
Sando City Still Stink [Poem]
SANDO CITY STILL STINK
By Gene Wilkes
Every year, and I donno why,
We does celebrate City Week
When a healthy, cleaner city
Is what we really ought to seek.
Sixteen years now I saying
That I find San Fernando stink,
Now, tell me, when you walk the streets,
How you does feel and what you think?
Ras Kommanda tell we in song
"We bringing back Sando Alive"
The Industrial Capital
Go be where Art and Culture thrive.
We had a mayor who, some say,
Was a man quite unorthodox,
But that was just because he was
Inclined to think outside the box.
Many of his good intentions
Languished from lack of approval,
Ideas that may not come to pass
With his unexplained removal.
His experiments with traffic,
Like the High Street pedestrian mall,
Failed because the big store owners
Didn't want street vending at all.
He move vendors from Gulf City,
Break down they bridge over a drain,
But drag racing at Cross Crossing
And the PH drivers remain.
He talked of plans for Skinner Park
Multipurpose Facility,
Which, as a sportsman, would have been
His most outstanding legacy.
But he get huff by Patos,
Who reorder priorities,
Building the Tarouba Stadium
For World Cup Cricket if you please.
But shouldn't we pay attention
To problems we face every day,
Affecting all the citizens
As we move about, work and play?
We have a dutty promenade
Dat eh have a single park bench,
And it eh have enough Fabreze
To get rid ah de awful stench.
We need parks and open spaces
That eh filthy and stinka pee,
The children's playground shouldn't be
Just the arcade in Gulf City.
The San Fernando waterfront
Is enough to move you to tears,
But we hearing bout plans for the wharf
For more than twentysomething years.
Must Sando be, as Denyse say,
Where vagrants does drink from a drain,
While politicians promising
The same things again and again?
Let us stop constructing houses
And start building communities,
We doh really need more ghettoes
Lacking basic amenities.
We get a brand new Mayor now,
And hope that with him we will get
A new scale of priorities
With much less emphasis on fete.
He talk bout vendors and traffick,
Long standing problems we all know,
But I hear some people saying
They hear better cock dan he crow.
© Copyright – Gene Wilkes, Cocoyea.
Posted with the kind permission of the poet.
VIEW ALL WORKS SUBMITTED BY THIS AUTHOR.
Thursday, February 15, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 10:11 PM 0 comments
Labels: San Fernando
Sumintra [Song]
Uploaded by mdemon69
SUMINTRA
Performed by Rikki Jai (1989)
Composed by Gregory Ballantyne
Bindiya chamkegi [Give me soca, aha aha]
Bindiya chamkegi [Boy give me soca, aha aha]
[Give me soca, aha-aha]
[Boy, give me soca, aha aha.]
Sumintra born in a shack in Debe and she parents from Indian Walk
This pretty girl have me tracking whole day filling me with she fancy talk
Is for years I sooting she, and she blushing back at me
But when I send my letter, she don't send no answer
So I hit the record shops, Indian records I buy up
When I reach by the girl she say, “Stop, Rikki, stop!”
Chorus:
She say, “Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Tickle me with a lavway, soca me till I sesay
But hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha.”
Sumintra charge me for being racist and tell me don't take them chance with she
Don't let me catch you in that foolishness, trying to reach the Indian in me
Like you into politics, boy, you coming on that tricks
Boy, I'm Trinbagonian, I like soca action
Take your Mohammed Rafi and bring Scrunter or Bally
Only then you’d be talking to me. Yes, Rikki.
Chorus:
She say, “Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Tickle me with a lavway, soca me till I sesay
But hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Tickle me with a lavway, soca me till I sesay
And hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha.
[Give me soca, aha aha]
Bindiya chamkegi, [Boy give me soca, aha-aha]
Bindiya chamkegi, [Give me soca, aha-aha]
[Boy, give me soca, aha aha.]
Aha-aha, aha-aha
Sumintra back me into a corner, she really catch me offside that night
For so much years was the village joker
I don't know since when she get so bright
Must be University or them trips to Miami
That make she draw a border between roots and culture
She's a liberated soul, Trinbago in she passport..
I feel small like a quart
She say, “ Sport, you come short”
Chorus:
Just hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Please tickle me with a lavway, soca me till I sesay
But hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha.
I still believe the best gift is music ’cause music is the food of love
But now I had to come up with new tricks for Sumintra to get involve
Was November 28th, I say “Kaiso ent release yet”
Boy, like I get she more hot, is kaiso in she thoughts
Man you really out a line, treating calypso like wine
Oh lord, you bring dem tune, all is wine. Leh we wine.
Chorus:
She say, Hold de Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Tickle me with a lavway, man, soca me till I sesay
But hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Please tickle me with a lavway, man, soca me till I sesay
But hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha aha
Tickle me with a lavway, man, soca me till I sesay
But hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha
[Hold the Lata Mangeskkar, give me soca, aha-aha]
[Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha]
Is soca yuh want eh?
I go give you what you want.
Lavway! Sesay!
[Hold the Lata Mangeskkar, give me soca, aha-aha]
[Hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha]...
.............................................................................................
A Note From The Gull
Eighteen years after its composition and execution, I am taking the opportunity to applaud Gregory Ballantyne and Rikki Jai for this amazing work, “Sumintra.” I came across it while trawling for Trinbagonian music on the Internet and in addition to taking a very pleasant trip down memory lane, I found myself being amazed by the treasures it contains.
At the time when the song was first released, having only just discovered Lata Mangeshkar myself, I remember being puzzled by Sumintra’s dismissal of the glory that for me is Lata. At that time, I would have said, “Hold de soca, give me Lata, aha-aha.” I think I must have dismissed Sumintra (the song) because I cannot recall noticing at that time just how clever it is. Reading and re-reading the lyrics now, I find myself again and again silently congratulating Mr. Ballantyne on his insights.
Sumintra, the composition, is an earlier example of Trinbagonian songs which reflect the meeting and merging of ethnic groups, specifically the African and East Indian groups. These songs have been produced by African, dougla and East Indian performers and more recently co-performed by members of the two groups.
Sumintra, the young woman, represents natural evolution that wants to be allowed the space and the freedom to select the best from the new environment which ever-present change constantly guarantees us. In this ever-new environment, whether pre or post arrival, pre or post independence, pre or post emancipation, pre or post industrialization, pre or post boom, the one constant is that we inhabitants continually seek to find ways to survive and prosper.
Sumintra’s protest draws attention to the ties that attempt to bind and shape us, and not necessarily in ways that encourage our arriving at the most fruitful syntheses.
Having been born in a shack in Debe and with parents from Indian Walk, the scene is set for us to expect an East Indian female who will, according to the stereotype, partake only of things associated with her ethnic group. But Sumintra is “Trinbagonian” and “a liberated soul.” Did the composer associate the two conditions? Was he saying that to be able to claim to be a real Trinbagonian, one must be liberated…from ethnic roots? Whatever the reason, Sumintra has “drawn a border between roots and culture.” How did this amazing thing happen? The composer concludes that it must have been the mind-broadening influences of her university education or the trips to Miami.
Hmm. Many of us didn’t have to wait that long. Having had to see our faces in the mirror every day was at least one of the catalysts towards enlightenment for sure. Growing up, I saw a chimera, a thing that could not be defined and the product of amalgamation of immigrants from at least five ethnic groups from three contintents and the Amerindians that they met here, each fading in and out. People didn’t know what I was and I found myself revelling in the freedom to choose anything which that past and my present location offered me. Most Trinabgonians, even if not ethnically mixed, but simply by virtue of the wealth of our cultural influences, find themselves in the same situation of “transcendence” and often without the influences of tertiary education and travel.
But Sumintra makes some powerful statements. She accuses her admirer of the following:
Being racist: She could have said also that he was seeing her as a stereotype, or locking her into the past of her ethnic origin. The same type of categorization that encourages cultural ghettoization, where, for example, East Indians should only want to play East Indian instruments and people of African descent must naturally be drawn to the steel pan.
Being into politics: “Like you into politics, boy, you comin' on that tricks…/Don't let me catch you in that foolishness/Trying to reach the Indian in me.”
Right on Mister Ballantyne!!! But that tactic of trying to reach or pander to some particular aspect of an individual or a particular segment of the population is not the preserve of politicians. It is resorted to universally when there is a need to quickly (often unscrupulously) harness a person or persons to a particular cause. Rikki wants to quickly capture Sumintra’s affection and he attempts to awaken a resonance in this East Indian woman by plying her with East Indian music. This is the bait and the hook. Sumintra, however, is having none of it. While she may personally be familiar with and enjoy Lata Mangeshkar’s music, she resents the stereotyping which reduces her to a one dimensional entity. She also loves soca music and this is what she would prefer to share with Rikki.
“Boy, I'm Trinbagonian, I like soca action
Take your Mohammed Rafi and bring Scrunter or Bally
Only then you’d be talking to me, yes, Rikki”
“Please tickle me with a lavway, man, soca me till I sesay
But hold the Lata Mangeshkar, give me soca, aha-aha.”
While this speaking to difference may be excused, or even essential in less open societies, here in Trinbago, it is often quickly seen for what it is – a ploy, and often a divisive one that pits one “group” against another, whether these be distinguished by religion, ethnicity, gender, class, political affiliation. We identify the trickery by recognizing that we are being flattened, simplified, categorized, reduced to one dimensionality. We defend our multi-dimensionality by asking ourselves the questions, “Why am I not being addressed as an individual and a human being and a man or woman or child and a Trinbagonian? What aspect or aspects of my being and my life in this country am I expected to neglect, to betray? Why are these artificial distinctions being solidified?” Whether the object(s) of these strategies choose, like Sumintra, to protest, or to play along, depends on if there is the perception of benefits to be received. We are entitled always it would seem, to sell ourselves to the highest bidder.
Thank you Gregory Ballantyne and Rikki Jai.
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Tuesday, February 06, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 11:14 PM 0 comments
Labels: Afro-Trinidadian, Commonalities, Creolisation, douglarisation, Indo-Trinidadian, melting pot, Trinbagonian
Prophet Of Doom [Song]
Uploaded by caribbeancvibes2
PROPHET OF DOOM
By Mighty Sparrow (1983)
If you happen to see and know when politics going wrong
With facts and figures prepared to show, it’s better to bite yuh tongue
To them political boss, who the people trust and get double cross
You're an obstacle to be removed at any cost. Oh oh
A social conscience is really very dangerous to your health
The awesome strength of the powers that be most certainly will be felt
To tell them that their priorities and performance is under par
It's poetic to hear them describe to you who you are.
First of all, you’re a megalomaniac, a power seeker,
A crazy ----, a trouble maker
And if you tell them that the economy is no longer in full bloom
Then you become a prophet of doom and gloom.
People complaining everyday, the cost of living too high
Still they take all the subsidies away, so man could suffer and die
The situation is much too rough for anyone to ignore
And I know that the people cyah take it anymore.
But, to show you really and truly care is often misunderstood
To express an abiding love for here seldom does any good
The system is far from perfect and most certainly must improve
But to tell them that is a very dangerous move.
'Cause you become wicked and nefarious, counter-revolutionary
Disciple of the Judas, enemy of the country
You’re branded as an imposter, masquerading in borrowed bloom
But everybody know you’re a prophet of doom and gloom.
"The feteing is over, back to work", that's what the leader says
But we hearing giggling and plenty jokes, music blasting upstairs
Every day is power outage, unhappy workers on the rampage
And all the foodstuff you have spoiling in yuh fridge
Tell me, when will we have dependable services from T&TEC
And when will Telco and WASA be able to fix the roads that they wreck
Don’t try to rock the ship of state with them stupid questions so
Accept the status quo and don't play hero.
You’re a nation of complainers, not at all enterprising
Just a set of belly achers, unjustly criticising
BWee, ISCOTT and the MV Tobago is in great shape, we must presume
If you say it isn’t so, you’re a prophet of doom and gloom.
Questionable deals made in haste continue to grow and grow
Blatant refusals have replaced the people’s right to know
Predictions are made daily to rule for a next century
And all indications are that it may well be.
But retrenchment and redundancy beginning to strangle we
Inflation and low productivity done take over already
The Integrity Commission Plan is a next project also ran
Every move they make now is to ensure re-election.
In this land of steady power failures, people houses in darkness
And every tree round the Savannah displays vociferous politics
You have to ask which is worse between a schizophrenic baboon,
A megalomaniac and a prophet of doom and gloom?
Source: The lyrics posted on this blog are often transcribed directly from performances. Although it is my intention to faithfully transcribe I do not get all the words and I have a knack for hearing the wrong thing. Please feel free to correct me or to fill in the words that I miss by dropping me a message via e-mail. I'd be forever grateful. Thanks in advance!
..............................................................................................................................
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Monday, February 05, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 12:59 AM 0 comments
Too Much Hurt and Frustration [Hymn]
Pearl Yvonne Mulrain
Too much hurt and frustration,
Too much fraud and corruption,
And the world we live in is turning
In the fires of sin and shame.
What we need is a shaking;
Yes, we need an awakening,
Give it, Lord, You can set our hearts aflame.
Chorus:
Oh yes, we want a youthquake to shake the nation;
Send it, Lord, on this generation;
Turn us all inside out for You.
Come on strong, no reserve, I say
Rumble-tumble like Judgment Day!
Shake! shake! shake! shake! I say.
Gambling, stealing and raping,
Lusting, smoking and drinking;
These are just a few of the evils
That are present with us each day.
Moral standards decaying,
Truth and right disappearing –
We ask You, Lord, to come today.
Chorus:
Oh yes, we want a youthquake to shake the nation;
Send it, Lord, on this generation;
Turn us all inside out for You.
Come on strong, no reserve, I say
Rumble-tumble like Judgment Day!
Shake! shake! shake! shake! I say.
Youth can conquer the nation,
Youth can dispel damnation;
And today we say we are willing,
We will let You have Your way.
We no more will be shirking,
We're all set to be working
With You, Lord; we ask You to come today.
Chorus:
Oh yes, we want a youthquake to shake the nation;
Send it, Lord, on this generation;
Turn us all inside out for You.
Come on strong, no reserve, I say
Rumble-tumble like Judgment Day!
Shake! shake! shake! shake! I say.
Source: Caribbean Worship and Song. Prepared by the Liturgical Commission, Archdiocese of Port of Spain, 1982. p. 122
..............................................................................................................................
A Note From The Gull
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Saturday, February 03, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 10:58 PM 4 comments
Piti Pata [Song]
PITI PATA
By 3CANAL
This place have too much ah guns!
This place have too much ah guns!
Pita pata, piti pata. Can you tell me what’s the matter?
Piti pata, piti pata. Awake, arise from your sleep and slumber
Piti pata, piti pata. Can you tell me what’s the matter?
Piti pata, piti pata. This place have too much ah guns!
Awake, arise from your sleep and slumber
Arise ‘cause your days are numbered
Woe be unto them sleepwalking in this time of reckoning
Yeah, though I walk through the shadows in the valley
I shall fear no evil one
For Thy rod and staff are with me.
So everybody better wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!
Everybody better shake up, shake up, shake up, shake up, shake up!
I say to wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!
Everybody better shake up, shake up, shake up, shake up, shake up!
Resistance is the Father and I am the Son
And in the name of rapso, Thy kingdom come,
I telling you lyrics to burn, knowledge and wisdom
You better wake up and take some,
Ay! I see them 2020, that mean I see them clearly
I see them cannot plan, can't even understand
You can't be afraid in your own land
This is we homeland, open up your eyes!
I say, awake, arise from your sleep and slumber..
Woye Arise and shake up the place like thunder
Woe be unto them sleepwalking in this time of reckoning
Yeah, though I walk through the shadows in the valley
I shall fear no evil one For Thy rod and staff are with, with, with, with me.
Pita pata, piti pata. Can you tell me what’s the matter?
Piti pata, piti pata. Awake, arise from your sleep and slumber
Piti pata, piti pata. Can you tell me what’s the matter?
Piti pata, piti pata. This place have too much ah guns!
Wake it up, shake it up, wake it up!
Shake it up, wake it up, shake it up!
Wake it up, shake it up, wake it up!
Shake it up, wake it up, shake it up!
I say, awake, arise from your sleep and slumber
Arise ‘cause your days are numbered
Woe be unto them sleepwalking in this time of reckoning
Yeah, though I walk through the shadows in the valley
I shall fear no evil one
For Thy rod and staff are with, with, with, with me.
Pita pata, piti pata. Can you tell me what’s the matter?
Piti pata, piti pata. Awake, arise from your sleep and slumber
Piti pata, piti pata. Can you tell me what’s the matter?
Piti pata, piti pata. This place have too much ah guns!
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!
Shake up, shake up, shake up, shake up, shake up!
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!
Shake up, shake up, shake up, shake up, shake up!
Pita pata, piti pata. Can you tell me what’s the matter?
Piti pata, piti pata. This place have too much ah guns!
Source: The lyrics posted on this blog are often transcribed directly from performances. Although it is my intention to faithfully transcribe I do not get all the words and I have a knack for hearing the wrong thing. Please feel free to correct me or to fill in the words that I miss by dropping me a message via e-mail. I'd be forever grateful. Thanks in advance! .............................................................................................................................
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Wednesday, January 31, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 4:15 PM 0 comments
Labels: gun violence
The Bandit Factory [Song]
Uploaded by IsDePanInMe
THE BANDIT FACTORY
By Chalkdust (2006)
Album: The Bandit Factory
Dedicated to all my grandchildren that they may never be bandits, and for Kelvin Pope, the Mighty Duke. Take this one brother.
"Wey all dem bandit come from?" Is a question all Trinis asking,
We were poor and yet how come we ent turn to shooting and killing?
Ah tell dem, it simple, all bandits come from de people
Bandits ent born big, my friend, is poor values dey get as children
So plenty people here, you know making bandit and dey don't know.
Let’s count…
So you make a baby before yuh time, little girl.
You make one.
Yuh child father hiding from Uncle Sam in de cold.
You make one.
You and your boyfriend, all yuh leave Primary School in Standard One
So to do homework you cyah help yuh son.
All yuh make another one.
You vex with the teacher 'cause he give yuh son two lash.
You make one.
He going to school with blue note and he cyah even spell cash.
You make one.
You ent give your two boys a sound cut ass for cursing in front of you
So instead of one bandit, you give de nation two.
Wey bandit come from? Ask Kamla my child
Wey bandit come from? Kamla should be tried
‘Cause is she stop teachers from cutting children backside.
"Wey all dem bandit come from?" All dem businessmen keep complaining
Dey say is people who come, deported from Uncle Sam’s kitchen
Ah tell dem, it simple, bandits does start from de cradle
When a man is a poor model, bandits does copy example
So plenty folks, I must admit, specialise in making bandit.
Let’s see…
You is a teacher, but children doh see you on Monday.
You make one.
You going to school but don’t teach, you only studying Play Whe.
You make one.
As a parent you don’t take time off to teach the little ones to pray
So de child don’t know ‘bout the life beyond.
All yuh make another one.
You in parliament but you getting on like a clown.
You make one.
You disrespect the Speaker and always shouting him down.
You make one.
You put a cuss bud hip-hop man on front page papers
Showing he gold chain and money
Well for your stupidity you gave de nation three
Wey bandit come from? Ask de DJ man
Wey bandit come from? 96.1
Every time you promote Buju Banton, you make one.
"Wey all dem bandits come from?" All dem politicians keep asking
Dey spending plenty lump sum but poor values dem children getting
A child must understand the sanctimonious nature of man
If he only knows, good lord, what’s inside one drop of human blood
Then that blood he cannot spill and a human being he can’t kill.
You is a police man, but you specializing in bribe.
You make one.
You call de radio station and boasting about yuh tribe.
You make one.
You is a doctor but before de patient sit down for an examination
You tell him that his bill is a thousand.
All yuh make another one.
You hide yuh bank book from de Integrity Commission.
You make one.
De airport money you tief and bank it in Switzerland.
You make one.
You ent want government to look good so you throw police reform out de door
Well for every month you ent change that law, you make four.
Wey bandit come from? Ask dem lawyer.
Wey bandit come from? Who charge people from Morvant
For a case, when you charge dem ten thousand, you make one.
"Wey all dem bandit come from?" Is a question newspapers asking
Yet dey 'fraid to tell Punch and Bomb dat their sex page have de youths rottening
You see friends, de media, some are irresponsible here
Instead of pushing cleanliness, hard work, chastity and good health
Dey making de youths obsessed with sex and material wealth.
You is a rat tiefing cocaine in de police station.
You make one.
You put cocaine in Sadiq Baksh water tank and run.
You make one.
De papers showing female calypsonians in a birth position
With man wining up on dem singers bambam.
All yuh make another one.
You is a judge freeing murderers all over de town.
You make one.
You on sick leave but dey find you working in London.
You make one.
You are a police man or a soldier and you tiefing ammunition
And den selling de bandits bullets live. You make five.
Wey bandit come from? Ask de Punch and Bomb
Wey bandit come from? With dey centrepage scum
Every time you show youths a naked woman, you make one.
A Note From The Gull
"Bandits ent born big." Thanks for this Chalkdust.
About discipline and the little ones, I don't know if we should be nostalgic about physical violence a.k.a. corporal punishment in schools or anywhere else. Why pick on people who are a fraction of our size? Isn't that the same kind of bullying that the thugs engage in with the aid of their fists, guns, cutlasses, knives and crowbars. There must be other effective methods of correction/guidance. If there are, I cannot suggest any, since corporal punishment was a feature of my upbringing. My teachers and parents cut my "arr-tichoke" on a few occasions. I can tell you that as an adult, I do not reflect on these incidents with gratitude and I know that these "benedictions" did not make me a better person. As a child they filled me with rage, humiliation and resentment and I can remember each beating, where they took place and the implements that were used. In addition, I am even more reluctant to give dominion over any child's body and mind to some of the characters who are becoming teachers today (Not referring to the wonderful teachers who do exist.) People like yourself, who have had responsibility for many children over the years will probably be in a better position to comment.
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Posted by Guanaguanare at 11:18 AM 0 comments
Labels: crime, exploitation, parenting
Magistrate Try Himself [Song]
MAGISTRATE TRY HIMSELF
Mighty Spoiler (1958)
Aha, well this one is class,
They charge a magistrate for driving too fast (You mustn’t doubt me)
Well this one is class,
They charge a magistrate for driving too fast
But is one courthouse in the district
He is the only magistrate there to run it
If you see how the people flock up he place
To see how the magistrate go try he own case.
Heself tell heself, “You are charged for speeding.”
Heself start to shout, “The policeman lying!”
Heself tell heself, “Doh shout!” He said, “No sport!”
And he charge himself for contempt of court.
Aha, he said, “Go ahead, let mih hear what happen.”
So the police said,“Sah, if you see how this man could speed!”
And he pointing at the magistrate, Johnny Mead
The magistrate ask him who he talking 'bout
“Is you/him ah mean!” the policeman shout out
The magistrate pick up a looking glass
And ask heself, “Is it true you were driving too fast?”
Heself told himself, “You are charged for speeding”
Heself start to shout, “The policeman lying!”
Himself told himself, “Don’t shout!” He said, “No sport!”
And he charge himself for contempt of court.
Aha, then Mister Caruth, he came up and he started to prosecute The magistrate then call his lawyer to defend the defendant, who is your honour
And all the time that the lawyer talking
The magistrate serious, sometime he laughing
Ah time the magistrate tell he own self, "Look, I have a great mind to take 'way your license book."
Heself told himself, "You are charged for speeding."
Himself told himself “The policeman lying.”
Himself told himself, “Don’t shout!” He said, “No sport!”
And he charged himself for contempt of court.
Aha, yes ah nearly drop when the man take out he pen and start to sum up Partner,
I start to study if he going to put his own self in custody
I was wrong because again he took out the mirror
Heself tell heself to pay twenty dollar
He bus out a cry, he turn round and say, “Give me chance, ah want a lil time to pay.”
Heself told himself, “You are charged for speeding.”
Himself told himself, “The policeman lying!”
Himself tell himself, “All right, I will be kind.
Ah giving you five years to pay the fine.” ..............................................................................................................................
A Note From The Gull
Thank you, Mighty Spoiler. With these classics, it's never just a rhythm with the performer hoping to get by on numbing the listener's mind. Here you get the whole package, an entertaining, humorous and sometimes fantastic story and the pleasure, that lasts long after the performance, of reflecting on the cleverness of the delivery, and the skill of the singer.
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Tuesday, January 30, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 10:03 PM 2 comments
Labels: humour, Laughter Commandos
Laziest Man [Song]
Uploaded by badmanelias
LAZIEST MAN
Mighty Dougla (1961)
Well, I challenging anybody who think that they more lazy than me
Open competition to prove I’m the world’s most laziest man
You could come from Germany, you could come from France
If you think you more lazy than me, you could take the chance.
But, I lazy to wine or dine, ah lazy to speak mih mind
Sun shining as hot as fire, I lazy to perspire
I hungry, look I want to dead, I lazy to bite mih bread
I drowsy and I sleepy like an old ram sheep
But I lazy to go to sleep.
Since I was small it is the same thing,
Mih old grandmother complaining
How I so lazy, she, couldn’t make no hand of me
If she beat me to make me work, she only making joke
She could beat me ' til she beat off all mih clothes
I too lazy to breaks from blows.
Now, I lazy to brush my teeth, I lazy to wash my feet
Skin dirty, look I want to bathe, I lazy to make the grade
Some people might think I smelling, I know what you think
But you should realise that a fellow like me
Too lazy to even smell stink.
Well my school days was real laughters
With me and my school teachers
Through my lazy brain, I drive about twelve teachers insane
Anytime I'm in their class, I drive them clean out dey mind
So rather than having to deal with me, they rather resign.
Yes, I lazy to reach in time, I lazy to stand in line
Anything with dictation, I lazy to understand
Any time is geography, spelling or geometry
She could lay down, she could bawl,
She could sneeze, she could crawl
She ent talking to me at all.
As a man, mih mother advise me it is time that I should marry
But I so lazy, is mih brother, John, get a girl for me
When the day of the wedding came, mih family shame
To go to the church I was too lazy
They bring the parson quite home by me.
Now, I lazy to look for work,
With mih wife, I lazy to make a joke
But the woman so love me, she decide she would maintain me
One day she said to me, “Stop home and be lazy.”
But like she blind, she can’t see or she too dumb to agree
I too lazy to be lazy.
You can listen to this song also at Irwin's playlist.
....................................................
A Note From The Gull
Thank you, Mighty Dougla!
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Posted by Guanaguanare at 9:58 PM 0 comments
Labels: humour. laziness, Laughter Commandos
Get To Hell Out! [Song]
Uploaded by caribbeanvibes2
GET TO HELL OUT!
By The Mighty Sparrow (1965)
I am going to bring back Solomon
Who doh like it complain to the Commission
None of them going to tell me how to run my country
I defy any one of you to dictate for me
I am no dictator, but when I pass an order
Mr. Speaker, this matter must go no further
I have nothing more to say
And it must be done my way
Come on, come on, come on, meeting done for the day.
This land is mine, I am the boss
What I say goes and who vex los'
I say that Solomon will be Minister of External Affairs
If you ent like it, get to hell outta here!
I am going to do what I feel to do
And I couldn't care less who vex or who get blue
And if you want to test how I strong in an election
Leh we bet some money, I giving odds, ten to one
I control all the money that pass through this country
And they envy me for my African safari
I am politically strong, I am the weight of town
Doh argue with me, you can't beat me in John-John.
Who's not with me, is my enemy
And thus will be their destiny
If I say that Solomon will be Minister of External Affairs
And you ent like it, get to hell outta here!
Who the hell is you to jump and quarrel?
Look! PNM is mine - lock, stock and barrel
Who give you the privilege to object?
Pay yuh taxes, shut up and have respect
I am a tower of strength, yes
I am powerful but modest ...unless
I'm forced to be blunt and ruthless
So shut up and don't squawk
This ent no skylark
When I talk, no damn dog bark.
My word is law, so watch yuh case
If yuh slip yuh slide, this is my place
And I say that Solomon will be Minister of External Affairs
And if you ent like it, get to hell outta here!
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Sunday, January 28, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 12:44 AM 4 comments
Nothing Ent Strange [Song]
Uploaded by kjamu27
NOTHING ENT STRANGE
By Black Stalin (1975)
Leh we say that when you read your morning newspaper
The headlines say that how they charge Stalin for guerrilla
I know plenty people may want to shout
But Brotherman, what is there for us to shout about?
I living in a yes-man society
Where all the no-men becomes the enemy
And if you decide to hold tight to your 'No'
The system have so much different ways of getting you to go.
Nothing, nothing, nothing ent strange
In the life of a man out for change
Once you don't want people talk for you
And wouldn't do the things that they want you do
Your life ent safe whether night or day
Because any number could play
Nothing, nothing, nothing ent strange
In the life of a man out for change.
The system have vicious ways of operating
It's like a vulture when it's about to attack its victim
Once you say they wrong and feeling you right
It can attack you like a thief in the night.
One day you are a hero, next day a traitor,
One day you're wealthy, next day a pauper,
And just play you smart and too intelligent
You could die mysteriously in some freak accident.
Nothing, nothing, nothing ent strange
In the life of a man out for change
Once you don't want people talk for you
And wouldn't do the things that they want you do
Your life ent safe whether night or day
Because any number could play
Nothing, nothing, nothing ent strange..
There are crimes the system commit could fill your eyes
Now let us take the brutal murder of sister Jean Miles
A woman who first love was that of her country
Her second love I know I know was honesty
Jean went and expose a gas station racket
Behaviour like that the system won't have it
And when the system ------- and it turn Jean around
It brought Jean worse than any beggar in town.
Nothing, nothing, nothing ent strange
In the life of a woman out for change.
Now I know all about this system and its working
A better life for my people, I must keep fighting
I cannot be destroyed and I go tell you why
Tell me how many times can one man die?
I die on the shores of Africa,
I die in '37 striking with Uriah
I die outside the square demonstrating with Daaga
So charging me for guerrilla, that is only fire.
Nothing, nothing, nothing ent strange
In the life of a man out for change
Once you don't want people talk for you
And wouldn't do the things that they want you do
Your life ent safe whether night or day
Because any number could play
Nothing, nothing, nothing ent strange...
Source: The lyrics posted on this blog are often transcribed directly from performances. Although it is my intention to faithfully transcribe I do not get all the words and I have a knack for hearing the wrong thing. Please feel free to correct me or to fill in the words that I miss by dropping me a message via e-mail. I'd be forever grateful. Thanks in advance!
.............................................................................................
A Note From The Gull
Thank you, Black Stalin.
"Patria est communis omnium parens" - Our native land is the common parent of us all. Keep it beautiful, make it even more so.
Blessed is all of creation
Blessed be my beautiful people
Blessed be the day of our awakening
Blessed is my country
Blessed are her patient hills.
Mweh ka allay!
Guanaguanare
Saturday, January 27, 2007 | Posted by Guanaguanare at 11:51 PM 0 comments