By Ateebo
After a life of serving his master well
This politician claim he one way ticket to Hell
Satan take him one side an start to squeeze he hand
He say, "Down here, boy, your skills are in real demand
I have a crew of demons whose jobs are on the line
Since you left office, boy, they're facing the breadline
I know this is your area of expertise
Just handle them and give your father an ease. "
Like Satan, he know all ‘bout finding work for idle hands
He decide to start dem off wit counting ocean sands
De demons start to steups and screw up dey mouth
Dey want to know if is de sands in de North or in de South
If is only wet sand or de dry sand on de beach
Forget bout sand on breeze wey dey cyah reach
It had to be de sand stick up in dey toes
Or only de sand grains dey finding in dey nose.
De politician shake he head and he had to smile
Ah could tell yuh been in my Trini land a while
But not even dem Trinis who all born yesterday
With such blatant insubordination could get away
In Trinidad, fellahs, my word was the law
If I call a man ah ass, he would say “Hee Haw”
So pick up yuh buckets and start counting where you stand
My checkers will ensure dat yuh doh get outta hand.
In Trinidad, I had sufferers like you painting stones
In de hot sun all day long, only drying up dey bones
Dey had to take dey money, grin and tell me “Thanks”
I did get my power kicks from all dese little pranks
Some ah dem did tief but ah let all dem feel
Dat in de end is dey who get de bettah deal
People up dey have dis convenient belief
Dat God does laugh if ah thief steal from ah thief.
In de end dey learning only how to scam
How to take dey sardine money an’ blow it on ham
How to work a hoe in slow motion de whole day
How to make invisible men collect real pay
How to hew wood and have dem women carry water
How to come when called, like lambs to de slaughter
To spin and spin like brainless tops in mud
And call me Father as if I and dem is blood.
Satan fold he arms, throw back he head and smile
Your mother did tell me you were your father's child
It's a long time that I've been waiting for this day
Whitey tired now, and it's high time that I make my way
From external foe to the one inside the brain
Of my rising son of neocolonialism
You have mastered my game and learned your lessons well
The time has come for a Trini to control Hell.
© 2006 - Ateebo
Posted with kind permission of the author.
Massa Day Will Never Done
Across The Dark Waters [Song]
ACROSS THE DARK WATERS
Performed by Kobo Town
Lead singer/songwriter Drew Gonsalves
Across the dark waters we came
With despair in our eyes,to rest beneath these foreign skies
And so began the endless wait
For an end to misery, for an end to history
In this new land we came to learn
About greed’s capacity to incite our cruelty
But over time we came to yearn
For the precious liberty that always stood beyond our reach
But the wheels of history grind slowly
Circumstance never smiles on the lowly
Everywhere we see contradictory signs
Perhaps tomorrow will being a brighter time…
Tumblin’ off the grandstand on the savannah
Bubblin’ out the speakers on every corner
Breakin’ over the mountain like a mighty thunder
Our hope is a restless song
Rising up from the sands like a defiant flower
Holding and consoling us in our darkest hour
Sweeping over the country like a dry-season shower
Our hope is a restless song
Our hope is a restless song
Across the dark waters we passed
To arrive where we now stand in this divided land
Few believed that we could last
To build a nation on these shores but look how we endured
In this former colony things are never what they seem
Beneath every place we see is a tortured history
The past could trample us
It could not rub out our dreams
And though we reached our present time
We have not left them behind.
But the wheels of history grind slowly
Circumstance never smiles on the lowly
Everywhere we see contradictory signs
Perhaps tomorrow will being a brighter time…
Tumblin’ off the grandstand on the savannah
Bubblin’ out the speakers on every corner
Breakin’ over the mountain like a mighty thunder
Our hope is a restless song
Rising up from the sands like a defiant flower
Holding and consoling us in our darkest hour
Sweeping over the country like a dry-season shower
Our hope is a restless song
Our hope is a restless song
You are my land, you are the land of my birth
For better or for worse, you are the land of my birth
In sickness and in health
And In good times and bad
I bow to you oh Trinidad
Though I have lived out my life far across the sea
In a foreign country in a frozen city
But I know I would be back again
You are the land running though my veins
You are my land , the land of my life
You are my land, the land of my life
Your joy is my light and your sorry my night
Your vision my sight, your soil my birthright
You are the land of my struggle
And your plight is my fight
The land of my struggle
And your plight is my fight
Tumblin’ off the grandstand on the savannah
Bubblin’ out the speakers on every corner
Breakin’ over the mountain like a mighty thunder
Our hope is a restless song
Rising up from the sands like a defiant flower
Holding and consoling us in our darkest hour
Sweeping over the country like a dry-season shower
Our hope is a restless song
Our hope is a restless song
Our hope is a restless song.
© Copyright – Kobo Town.
Posted with the kind permission of Kobo Town.
....................................................................................................
A Note From The Gull
These are the events that bring me joy: whenever a writer submits his/her work for posting or I discover some talent hitherto unknown to me. The latter describes my Kobo Town experience. I was directed to their website by a Trinidadian friend living abroad who was equally impressed and her excitement made me curious enough to visit them. I was not disappointed. In fact I was overwhelmed. I am not going to try to decide here which other band or artist they resemble or into which category they fall. All I can say is that for me, they are a much needed breath of fresh air on our music scene.
“Our hope is a restless song.” It isn’t enough that Kobo Town’s music is too sweet to resist, their lyrics/songwriter is also a poet. I have read these words again and again without any music, marveling over the lyrical musings of a Trinidadian who has not forgotten the land that is his birthright. I remember the title of one of Darcus Howe’s articles in the New Statesman containing the following statement about Trinidad: “Not even the cascadura fish could lure me there.” For many Trinidadians living abroad, it would be sweet relief to realise such closure. Neil Bissoondath also expressed a similar sentiment, having attained the enviable release of not having a single regret about leaving Trinidad or having the slightest desire to return.
But what of those who must live apart from a land that they continue to feel as a constant tangible presence running through their veins, as Drew describes it. What must they do to come to terms with the fact that they exist in a constant state of bilocation? Drew uses the vehicles of poetic words and music to give expression to sentiments shared by many expatriate Trinidadians who still love the land of their birth, who feel concern for the plight of their country and dream about return at some point when the choices available to them are not the cold stability of a foreign land versus the steamy chaos back home. In the mean time it is therapeutic just to share, to testify:
You are my land, you are the land of my birth
For better or for worse, you are the land of my birth
In sickness and in health
And in good times and bad
I bow to you, oh Trinidad
Though I have lived out my life far across the sea
In a foreign country in a frozen city
But I know I would be back again
You are the land running though my veins
You are my land, the land of my life
Your joy is my light and your sorry my night
Your vision my sight, your soil my birthright
You are the land of my struggle
And your plight is my fight
The land of my struggle
And your plight is my fight
For me, this song touches upon so many aspects of the experience of being a Trinidadian and the impact of a turbulent history on what remains a turbulent society today.
In this former colony things are never what they seem
Beneath every place we see is a tortured history
Drew neglects neither the good nor the bad that exists, but in weighing them both chooses to focus on the resilience, the “defiant flower”, the exuberance of the Trinidadian that despite everything continues to give us the capacity to dance. The conclusion that this song exudes is one of hopefulness and love because that is what exists in the eye of this beholder:
The past could trample us
It could not rub out our dreams
And though we reached our present time
We have not left them behind.
Perhaps tomorrow will being a brighter time
Tumblin’ off the grandstand on the savannah
Bubblin’ out the speakers on every corner
Breakin’ over the mountains like a mighty thunder
Our hope is a restless song
Rising up from the sands like a defiant flower
Holding and consoling us in our darkest hour
Sweeping over the country like a dry-season shower
Our hope is a restless song
Our hope is a restless song
This is the optimism that has been under constant siege in Trinidad, that is being leached away by the acid rain of unrelenting betrayals, both self-inflicted or otherwise:
And so began the endless wait
For an end to misery, for an end to history
In this new land we came to learn
About greed’s capacity to incite our cruelty
But over time we came to yearn
For the precious liberty that always stood beyond our reach
The title “Across The Dark Waters” is also well chosen. We had come to associate this specifically with the East Indian experience of crossing the kala paani or Dark Waters to arrive in Trinidad, but here Drew expands this experience to include all who came (and are still coming – Welcome!). We are all united in that experience of the fear and uncertainty of crossing from the familiar to the unfamiliar. Perhaps what Trinidadians are experiencing today is another Dark Waters. Perhaps if successfully negotiated, this is the crossing that will take us not so much to a new country but a new appreciation of what this country means to us and our place in it.But over time we came to yearnFor the precious liberty that always stood beyond our reachIn conclusion, I just have to confess that of late I have been frequently repeating to myself the line, “Our hope is a restless song.” For me that says it all.
Thanks Kobo Town.
This is the first of a series of posts featuring the lyrics from some of the songs off the soon to be released Kobo Town CD entitled “Independence.” Kobo Town is a Canadian based band with very close ties to Trinidad, a few of their members being Trinidadian. As the title of the CD hints, many of these songs are about what Independence has meant for former colonies and in particular, Trindiad and Tobago.
"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
Sweet, Sweet Trinidad [Song]
Uploaded by seukeran
SWEET TRINIDAD
By Lord Funny (1966)
Foreigners always asking me why in Trinidad people so happy
What to do? Man, I have to tell them the truth
I say, a man could sleep until 10 o' clock
Get up and still he ent late for work
Wey he hurrying for? He getting transport in front he door.
And is poke a poke, they going all day
And on pay day still draw a big fat pay
If they like, they could call a big strike.
Chorus:
So I tell them, sweet, sweet Trinidad, fus I love this country bad
I doh want to leave at all ever since I small
Look I bawling, sweet, sweet Trinidad! Brother, fus I feeling glad
When I dead, please bury me in the center of the city.
We got we big oilfields just in the South
We have all kind of thing to talk about
No regret, you just have to get up and get
And anytime things a little bad
Man, you have a garden in your backyard
And don't doubt, the food almost in your mouth
We got women, colour class or creed
Any kind of a woman that you need, you could bet,
The sweetest woman you could get.
Chorus:
So I tell them, sweet, sweet Trinidad, fus I love this country bad
I doh want to leave at all ever since I small
Look I bawling, sweet, sweet Trinidad! Brother, fus I feeling glad
When I dead, please bury me in the center of the city.
In Trinidad, crime don't pay
No, it cyah happen down here no day
And of course, we got the brilliant Police Force
Them young fellahs, they ent want no work
Man they liming and feting ‘round the clock
And yes friend, dey always have money to spend.
Dem beggars, wey de want a house for
When they could sleep in front ah any store
And if you see the beautiful city!
Chorus:
So I tell them, sweet, sweet Trinidad, fus I love this country bad
I doh want to leave at all ever since I small
Look I bawling, sweet, sweet Trinidad! Brother, fus I feeling glad
When I dead, please bury me in the center of the city.
We got steelband music, sweet for so
And don't talk about we sweet calypso
Bacchanal when it come to the Carnival
And if you see how the island progressing
Every day is new plans that they making
Sun or rain, men down here ent play they got brain
Man, if I got to tell you ‘bout here
It going to take me more than a year
As you see, a happiness killing we.
Chorus:
So I tell you, sweet, sweet Trinidad, fus I love this country bad
I doh want to leave at all ever since I small
Look I bawling, sweet Trinidad! Brother, fus I feeling glad
When I dead, please bury me in the center of the city.
[Sweet, sweet Trinidad, fus I love this country bad Yes! Tell you!
[Sweet, sweet Trinidad]...
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
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