Book of falling pages I will have to leave you soon
Book of fewest rages I will have to shut you soon
Book of many stages life is on my moon
book of many ages there is always room
for yet another story yet another time
yet another glory and another rhyme
No place to worry one place to chime
with no other hurry than the body of mine
gives me takes me leaves me is and is to be
yes wanna be and gonna be free to see
what there is and what there might just be
between here, there and me
traveling right through the middle and the place to be
is here and on sea sides where turtle slides
back into shallow water and on mountain peaks where the Rasta resides
and the maroon once again hides
as life is a circle and me just in it a bicycle rides.
Please go out and sing it. Yes do trim it.
Sing it just the way it is. Bring it to the stage of your choice
don’t you lower your voice,
it is beautiful to hear on this open and clear beach,
this high mountain peak and some other places in reach.
Bleach your so called civilization,
it is just a bad imagination
and lifetimes of propaganda in full frustration.
This is one occasion to change to another radio station
and tune in with softer spots, big green dots of life.
Strive to be with the powers that made you.
Don’t sniff the big cities glue
just get another hue
of green bless and do
nature, the earth do caress!
dAn1725060707 Ocho Rios, JAM
