Tafari tries to get a job Ten letters behind his name. Born up in the cornfields Tafari doesn't the game The game has not respect for life Even less for rules. Winners only need apply, Sorry no rooms for fools. Tafari, looks up to the stars and Wonders if there's life on Mars Some say, he should shave his head, But he's proud to be a dread.
Chorus: 'cos I'll be stronger. For the truth, I know takes longer I've the cunning of the tiger and the Wisdom of the trees. I won't be sad, refuse the sorrow I look forward to tomorrow I'll release my anger, 'cos I'm proud to be a dread.
Selassie, tries to find a home, To rest his weary head. A place where he can take his girl To share his spiritual bed. When he's greeted at the door, The sign has changed his tune. Though his Queen is full of child, sorry. There's no room. Selassie looks up to the clouds, He curses hard and shouts of out loud. Remembering his father's words, A whisper from the dead.
Chorus
'Cos in this life, you have to take a chance, or why else live at all. 'Cos in this life, to climb a mountain, sometimes expect to fall. 'cos in this life nothing comes easy, if it does, it has a price. 'Cos in this life a martyr suffers, look at Jesus Christ
Compositores: Desree Annette Weekes (Des'ree) (PRS), Michael Emmanuel Kwesi Graves (Michael Graves) (PRS)Editor: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd (ABRAMUS)ECAD verificado obra #4782613 em 02/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM