1 9 8 7 Songtext

von Saul Williams

Acid-wash Guess with the leather patches
Sportin' the white Diadoras with the hoodie that matches
I'm wearing two Swatches and a small Gucci pouch
I could have worn the Lugi but I left it in the house
Now, my niggas Duce and Wayne got gold plates with their names
With the skyline on it with the box link chain
I'm wearing my frames
They match my gear with their tint
And you know Lagerfields is the scent

Now, my nigga Rafael just got his jeep out the shop
Mint green sidekick, custom-made rag top
"Strictly Business" is the album that we play
"You're A Customer"; the pick of the day
Now there's a nigga on the block, never seen him before
Selling incence and oil, my man thinks that he's the law
But why on earth would this be on their agenda?
As he slowly approaches the window..

"Uh, uh, I've seen you before, I've been you and more
I was the one bearing the pitcher of water
I rent the large upper room
Furnished with tidings of your doom
Or pleasure, whichever feathers[?] decree."
Yo Ralph is he talking to me?
"No I'm talking to the sea son's resurrected
I'm the solstice of the day
I bring news from the blues of the Caspian"
My man laughs, he's one them crazy motherfuckers
Turn the music back up - 'cause I'm the E-Double'
"Wait, but but but but I know the volume of the sea
And sound waves as I will
Will you allow me to be at your service?"
My man Ralph is nervous. He believes
That this strange tounge deceives
And maybe he's been informed that
He's pushing gats hidden in the back, beneath the floor mats
Come on Jack, we don't have time
For your bullshit or playin
A'salaam a something' or another
"Wait isn't Juanita your mother?
I told you I know you, now grant me a moment"

At the gates of Atlantis we stand
Ours is the blood that flowed from the palms of his hands
On the plow till earth
Till I'm now
Moon cycles revisited, womb fruit of the sun
Full moon of occasions wave the wolves where they run
And they run towards the light casting love on the winds
As is the science of the aroma of sleeping women
Lost in his eyes they soon reflect my friend's are grinning
But I'm a pupil of his sight
The wheels are spinning
Yo I'll see ya'll later on tonight

In the beginning her tears where the long awaited rains
Of a parched Somali village
Red dusted children danced shadows
In the newfound mound of mascara that eclipsed her face
Reflected in the smogged glass of carlos east street bodega
Learning to love, she had forgotten to cry