WHO ARE YOU
Ola Onabule © 2006
He had a dye job, to make him stand out,
This little despot, In a fluorescent coat.
He said...
I was a hoodlum, there could be no doubt, Just for returning home,
By continental boat ,
Returning to my home
I don't mind, stuff is happenning all the time
But the drift of my soliloquy may be,
Not a one, of any one, I counted on,
Steps up to the line for me
Born alone, Dies alone
But doesn't figure on fighting all alone
Oh who are you, what are you doing here, living like Me
Yes I am you, being those things that you won't dare to be
Who the hell are you!
It's not America, back in the twenties,
How can he do this, I wanna cut him bad
And my...
Mist is reddening, my teeth are clenching, I need to drive off,
Before he drives me mad,
All around the bend
still they're not here, lights are on but not upstairs
And the soul of their philosophy may be
If I'm alright then it's alright for every one
The hells it got to do with me
Born alone, Dies alone
They never figure on fighting all alone