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GTFOH by Queen Drea
04:38
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There’s no more space for me to fly
But I believe heaven’s in the skies
Mother mother don’t you cry
We’ll get there by and by
Bye and bye
A hamlet and a hurricane
The levys in the way
And all the people black and brown exposed no place to stay
For once the white man drops the walls [that] he fabricated
Paint the town red with a pen to plot some fresh graves
Fresh graves
Fresh graves
Can’t reform the master's house
with the tools he gave
Fallow fire rises from the fields and licks the gates
The embers in their eyes help seal the covenant they made
Naively believe they're safe and out of harm's way, just wait
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6. |
Hold On by Joe Davis
03:18
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This is chant/poem in Douala, French and English. Douala Soul Collective joins the art of revolution!
It’s our woven song of tribal waves, layered woven symbol-words intended to heal and soothe the hearts.
In this performance, we want to pick ourselves up, as we pick up the pieces of our fallen brother George Floyd.
The word Kotele means gather. “Kotele” indeed we gather all voices, all wings “mapupulan”, all tears (“mbembe”). Here we speak of “Solidarité” or solidarity as we march together as one body of existence
O sibi te o sibi nde means if you don’t know, you don’t know and you just don’t.
L’humanite a du parcours means human universe has a long way to go
We sing of blackness as a universal song, always alight bound to the rhythm of our breath.
George Floyd matila na musiki
Kotele, Kote… Kotele
Kotele, Kote… Kotele
tele mulema see for yourself
mapupulan ma George Floyd
mapupulan ma musango
biso bana ba mindo o mundi mwa wase
di mea nde mbembe na mbembe
mapupulan ma George Floyd o musiki mwa su
Mbembe na mbembe ee
Mbembe na mea no e
Mbembe na mbembe ee
Ni mbembe na mea no
Une pensée profonde pour toi George
L’humanité a du parcours
Oui, l’humanité a un grand parcours
O tele te miso o si boa pe mwititi bongo
dangwa nde na makom
kotele nde mawindi ma solidarity
Kotele, Kote… Kotele
Kotele, Kote… Kotele
kotele so batudu (elders)
Kotele matumba (communities)
Kotele so bana (children)
biso bese bana ba loko
sese ni sodi biso nyolo
ndutu ni sodi biso o mulema
o mwititi o mwititi mwa ponda
Sibi sibi te o oh o sibi sibi nde
Who are you to put me in a box like a branded pair of shoes
our eyes are peeled open and your eyes will too
look for black lives notice blackness in every song
watch reality shape your eyes
refuse to be archived
black children madiba ma motha Africa
musiki mwa su mwen nde everywhere
partout nous sommes en marche
everywhere o mundi mwa wase
matilanamusiki mwa su en marche
quelle que soit les barricades nous sommes en marche
mwaye mwa su
mwe nde universel
di yabe nde na mwititi
di meya nde na mwititi
di moba nde musiki mwa su o mundi mwa wase
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9. |
Mama by Kashimana Ahua
04:58
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Mama
© Kashimana Ahua 2020
Mmmm
Ahh
Mama (Breathing hah hah hah)
Mama (Ooo oo oo)
Mama
He calls out
I can’t breathe
I can’t breathe
Crown upon his head
wings upon his back
He was a father, a brother, a son
How could you not see it?
When you had your knee on his neck
George Floyd, Say his name
George Floyd
Justice Now
Something’s gotta change
Gotta stop killing our brothers and sisters
What are you gonna do now that you hear the call? oh
What are you gonna do now that you’ve heard his voice? What are you gonna do?
Mama mama oooo
That I can’t breathe
I’m a link (live)
What are you gonna do when you hear the call? (Hear the call)
Mama Yeah Hear the call
I hear you
Oh oh we all hear you
Now we gonna change the world (Change the world)
Now we gotta change the world (Change the world)
Right now, Do it now, Do the work now!
It’s a marathon
Not a sprint now (Yes)
Oh oh oh oh
oooo ooo ooo
Mama Oh Oh Oh (Ad libs)
For my brothers and my sisters (For my brothers and my sisters)
for the one that go before us (For my brothers and my sisters)
for the ancestors and the future
that now depends on us (that now depends on us)
The time is now
Right here, right now ( Right here, right now the time is now)
Now you hear the call
Heart of my heart
Mama
Mmm mmm mmm
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Poison
Your heart is aching filled with poison
Your stomach swallows up the ocean
But still your bitter, filled with poison
The dripping tear gas lingers
It falls and fumbles down your throat
Your crippling depression,
Will keep you manic and afloat
This twist of fate
We twist and chase
Hand holding and sweet talking
I think I love you
You say you love me too
But is it true?
Darling it's too late
I'm losing my patience
I'm feeling it caving in
And now I have to go
Now I have to go
This twist of fate
We twist and chase
Hand holding and sweet talking
I think I love you
You say you love me too
But is it true?
You love me
You love me
You say that you gone love me
You love me
You love me
You say that you gone love me
You love me
You love me
You say that you gone love me
You love me
You love me
AHHHHHH
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11. |
The Art of the Revolution Minnesota
"The Art of the Revolution" is a DIY artist collective started on 35th and Chicago, born from a movement around police reform, awareness, and community policing initiatives/solidarity.
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