Uploaded by wongkee83
VOICES FROM THE GHETTO - CRYING
By Singing Sandra
The sun rises slowly over the hills,
Everywhere is golden sunlight but still
Most nights with sad tales are crowded
Their days with dark clouds are shrouded
They don't smile and they never will,
Only vultures get their fill.
Empty promises is what they hear
No running water from year to year
Hearts that know one desire -
That if there is a Messiah,
Someday He'd hear their whispered prayer.
Cupboard always bare and scanty
Ten people in a one-bedroom shanty
Forced to sell on the pavement
No vacancies, no employment
Can't tell firecracker from gunshot
Blood does flow when things get hot
Ah 'fraid to look out mih window
To hear voices from the ghetto...
[Crying,] crying [crying] ay Lord, Lord [crying] crying, voices from the ghetto
[Crying,] crying [crying] Lord, Lord, Lord [crying] aye ay, voices from the ghetto
Help us Father! Oh, Lord!
Mothers does just hold their head and bawl
And them woman stronger than a wall
A big pusher eyeing she daughter,
Son in jail for manslaughter
Too bad for he, he ain't named Brad Boyce,
No bail, that's the black man's choice
Like Shadow say, "Poverty is Hell",
She little girl child belly start to swell
Some say life is a cycle
But don't draw she no circle
Where will it all end, only time could tell.
Outside the siren keep howling,
Inside your belly real growling
Police raid very often,
Simpson's measuring a coffin
One night in bed you sleeping,
Next night is a wake that you keeping
So you praying to win the Lotto,
Not to hear voices from the ghetto...
[Crying,] crying [crying] ay, crying, crying, crying, voices from the ghetto
[Crying,] crying [crying] Lord, hear them pleading [crying] ay, ay, ay, voices from the ghetto
Stretch forth a hand to us, Lord! We are not a forgotten people. Hear our cry.
With dented pride they soldier on
Revolutions' base, politicians' pawn
And often their tragic story brings a journalist glory
No wonder they view the world with scorn
From since the day they born
Some call them rebels without a cause,
These social victims of unjust laws
But yet they christen their heroes,
Forever knocking on Heaven's doors...Hear me!
Steelband music shatters the silence,
Harmony to conquer the violence
Big men run when cops approach,
Fighting for scraps with the cockroach
Young turks, their turf protecting,
Almost every young girl expecting
So tomorrow, beg, steal or borrow,
There will be another voice from the ghetto...
[Crying,] Lord [crying] oh, oh, oh [crying] ay, ay, voices from the ghetto
[Crying,] Oh----- Mama [crying] Oh ----- Papa [crying] voices from the ghetto.
Social amenities, Lord, Heaven knows
Opportunities, well them always closed
Can't get work once it white collar
So if you can't stretch your dollar
Is later for you, crapaud smoke yuh pipe
You sure to dead from gripe
Life does rape dignity and pride
'Til there's only bitterness left inside
And everyday is a hustle,
Arguments are settled with muscle
'Til you six feet deep by three feet wide.
Children through life keep on drifting
Is something they smoking or sniffing
Maybe they trying to forget
This life of misery and regret
No one to come to their rescue
Except Cableton and Buju
So their boom boxes they leggo
To drown out voices from the ghetto...
[Crying] crying [crying] yeah, Lord, lord, lord [crying] ay, ay, voices from the ghetto
[Crying,] crying crying [crying] crying, crying [crying] crying, yeah eh, voices from the ghetto
[Crying,] I was born and bred in the ghetto [crying] I know what I talking about, you know [crying] ay, ay, I from the ghetto
N.B. The following verse was sung at Singing Sandra's 1999 Dimanche Gras performance.
As parents struggle to provide
Children are neglected and deprived
Illiteracy on the rampage
Some parents never reach college
So ---- the child must ----
If he want to stay alive
The dropout rate does come out trump
As their big truck skid and hit life's bump
Dem can't relate education
To their daily life of starvation
So they take their chances in the dump
Every day garbage truck they hopping
Is old junk and metal they scrapping
To get a jump start on them corbeaux
Some does get squash like mosquito
So next time you passing the Beetham
In your fancy car, air-conditioned
Just above the hum of your motor
You might hear a voice from the ghetto.
Source: The lyrics posted on this blog are 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, Singing Sandra. I bow low.
"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!