Follow

Follow : Lyrics and composition by Tristan Waterkeyn

Up to the top the buckets go , yeah some for water and some full of clothes and then down to the market place they go along those clay walkways.
And the children laugh and sing all the way and the women talk about the day ahead what it holds for each and about the lives they lead.

And the sun comes down between the trees and as they walk tall grass sways past their knees.
And the light bounces right off their white teeth , their hearts and feet hold down the beat.

And so, Some walk fast and some walk slow some for work and some just for show.
Some walk fast and some walk slow and all the men stop to watch the way their hips go
And the elders smile cause they all know that where the women go the rest will follow. Follow , follow, Follow , follow,

Well that may have been in a perfect world before we discovered our diamonds and gold, chopped down trees and dug big holes, put up walls and buried our souls,
Forgot our children on the road and then we ran for cover as the sun grew cold.
We love our money talk instead, accumulate at the highest rate, the sun only reaches those on top and our women are brought and sold like their crops,
An angry fist bounces off these teeth, and their hearts and feet hold down the beating. And now…

The Mack

The Mack : Lyrics and composition by Tristan Waterkeyn

Size doesn’t matter if you’re evil with a gun
He burnt his fingers pointing at the sun He don’t spend his days in heaven
Cause of what he did for fun, You know…
And his belly doesn’t matter if he’s evil with a gun
He say the extra weight helps him concentrate
With his toothless grin above his menacing double chin
All liquidized food is so easy to funnel in.

He says he used to be the ‘Mack’ you know.
Your main daddy’o.
Nobody gives him crap, or tells him where to go.
And he starts to loose the plot and so,
Your man is getting old.
He needs a little help getting out of all his clothes.
No he’s not paranoid, no.
There’s someone sneaking up behind him. No…

Hair doesn’t matter if he’s evil with a gun
Toupee over the top, don’t cover what he aint got.
And speaking aint big thing; he still tells a joke it, all sounds funny after you’ve had a stroke.
Don’t need your man of vision if he’s evil with a gun
Those eyes behind his head make it difficult in bed,
To keep track of his knee caps, he wont get them back.
But, he tells another story of how it used to be.

Private Beach

Private Beach : Lyrics and composition by Tristan Waterkeyn

Not much to do today
Not much to say You see, im so happy im so fly
I got nothing but my own sweet time

Not much to wear today
No clouds to hide all of my cares away
You see im so exotic im so fly
I got money and my bright bright white smile.

My lifes a private beach
My cocktails just in reach
Got fine white sand between my pretty toes
Got the sun out today and so ive lost all my clothes…

So much I want to save
This world could be a better place
You know im so caring ive got soul
I don’t wear fur cause I grow my own , (know what I mean)

Its such a waste of air
Pollution it is every where
You know im so pretty im so sweet
Gave all my brown coins to those kids on the street