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The Roots
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Im a British Bengali, so this is me just exploring this issue. Put this sample and song together in 2002
Alternative hip hop
JOIN THE MAILING LIST FOR GIG UPDATES, LYRIC POETRY, QUOTES,PHILOSOPHY,METAPHYSICS, ASIAN CULTURE,OTHER WRITINGS. A Quote From Nietsche The... European..., all in all --definitely requires a costume: he needs history as his storeroom for costumes. He realises, to be sure, that none of them fits him properly --he changes and changes. Consider the nineteenth century with regard to these rapid predilections and changes in style-masquerade; notice too the movements of despair because 'nothing suits' us-. It is in vain we parade ourselves as romantic or classical or Christian or Florentine or baraque or 'national', in moribus et artibus: the 'cap doesn't fit'! But the 'spirit', especially the 'historical spirit', perceives an advantage even in this despair: again and again another piece of the past and of foreigness is tried out, tried on, taken off, packed away, above all studied --we are the first studious age of in puncto of 'costumes', I mean those of morality, articles of faith, artistic tastes, prepared as no other age has for the grand carnival in style, for the most spiritual Shrovetide laughter and wild spirits, for the transcendental heights of the most absolute nonsense and Aristophanic universal mockery. Perhaps it is precisely here that we are discovering the ream of our invention, that realm where we too can still be original, perhaps as parodists of world history and God's buffoons--perhaps, even if nothing else today has a future, precisely our laughter may still have a future!
Song Info
Charts
#2,457 in subgenre Peak #12
Charts
Peak #836
Author
Guardian
Rights
Guardian 2004
Uploaded
September 15, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.5 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
Understanding my identity.
Lyrics
The Roots (Just looking back, you know?) Verse One They came from a different land that passed us by At the place of worship Old men with white beard and patterned cap Raised leaves on his oak tree Jacket pocket holds the prayer beads And rose oil for many years hard toil Large family not immigrants Dining on the rice staple at the table Told his grown boy of his life saga.. Life saga life saga saga! Sounding like a fable Bach home circle of blood Gather in a green rectangular field Father claims benefits for benefits Not in the best of health Wife wouldn’t hear the end of it Took all kinds of medicine From insulin to ventolin Said the sunny continent would’ve bettered him His son was faced with traditions that moulded him He took for good or bad habits Could never take a real hold on him In the new world he looked for a role That held no s p a c e for him. Chorus Getting back to the roots I came from the oak Dedicate a few notes Here’s what I wrote (X2) Verse Two The old folks wife married at young age Prayed by night and day The twenty-four carat gold she used to have made And labours on as I write this page Like she was at a stove Talismans around the neck and elbow Arabic inscriptions about the council housing Reading a flowing verses a thousand Keeping out the curses fucked up Drank tea that matched the skin With her kin the daughter childbearing The crushed leaves of remembrance she was wearing Chorus Getting back to the roots I came from the oak Dedicate a few notes Here’s what I wrote (x2) Verse three In the Fifties we came as an immigrant Worked in factories layed down families No more than million Overworked for a shilling Just to make a killing More children than manageable Holding firm with religion Sleeves rolled up knackered Worked like in prison Constant strain maintained by unfair Distribution Dad smoked his tobacco from a pipe in the night Broadcasts teaching us English Not one for the gramophone Black and white televisions destroying the home Industrial smog streets of fog Now foxes break us up like logs Giving out the freedom with every line Not dealing with division Rule and divide taints my memory Walls in the house cant confines me I roam the earth cause this world is mine With its similarity and variety variety Chorus Getting back to the roots I came from the oak Dedicate a few notes Here’s what I wrote (x2)
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