FICTION OR FACTION

FICTION OR FACTION

Is it fiction or is it faction
Or fiction from some faction
Of poets who blow bullets
To blow us all of em stage
To let their show go on and on and on
In shotgun, shotgun, shotgun rhythms
Rhythms riding without 'em rhymes
Missing the point and the audience
Shooting from 'em hip
Shooting from 'em lip
Without unwinding down to the root, the feet
As I sing from my lips
No need for competition, just co-operate
No need for competition, just co-operate
I what about the welfare state
What about the welfare state
And we don't need this warfare state.

And what of MC's say 'em no artist yet
Yet art is my life and my teacher
And I even consider
If my legs were blown off in the murder or my own head
Would it make me a better poet or person would it.

When I walk on concrete floors
My feet slow with pain
Dragging me down alleyways
I shout aloud my worst lines
Walk faster, faster still
Or electric wheelchair
Walk faster, faster still
As you sit in your jam
Jamming to your radio
Walk faster, faster
And I need a public transport helicopter.

Freedom Pass
Nah wonder me call it my scrubs pass
For it is we who turn the lights to green
Old aged, unwilling, deaf and blind and insane
As we ride and ride
On our passengers side
From nine zero zero
To five fourty five
Old aged, deaf and blind
And insane
Whose sane, where are the sane
And your ride is my ride is your ride is my ride
Your ride is my ride is your ride is my ride.

So what if I told you of Amsterdam
Unlike bluesmen stuck on the trains
No the whole sytem mash up my brains
As I dropped all of my tings
As I full of fear of em old system in South Africa
And a war, a war, a nuclear war
And as the trams do run I could of ran
Still I stuck out my foor on the turn
And as I turn
The blood it did drop
Drop in to drop out
Drop in to drop on out
In this fiction or faction
What is your reaction
Fiction or faction
Don't need a piece of action
In this fiction or faction
Don't need no warfare action
Is this fiction or faction.

An ambulance drive
And carried across on safe strectcher
Finally out for the count
Ten, twenty, thirty, forty minutes later
Questions from em PC's
Where even in my insanity
I said it was an accident
For I knew the penalty for being mad.
Than on with the drip, drop, drip, drop, dropping
Drops of sugar, salt and water
And I am eating soup and getting stronger
Not a runner or fighter or lightweight boxer
I wheel up to my feet
Where i and I carry that edge
To watch trams go by
Go faster, faster, faster still
Where i and I and I and I
Carry the heaviest, heavyweight boxer
Off 'em edge of it all
Off 'em edge of it all.

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