Or rehearse with a picking of phases,
To extend the living they like.
No one is here just to live a bit of life.
Or decide with a doing to refuse,
If the sugar isn't dunked in spice.
No one is here just to live a bit of life.
But many think their lives are lived...
To despise, defy
And...
To backbite.
'Pass me the weed.
Pass me more 'coke'.
Pass me the liquor to heat my throat.'
No one is here just to live a bit of life.
Or rehearse with a picking of phases,
To extend the living they like.
'Pass me the weed.
Pass me more 'coke'.
Pass me the liquor to heat my throat.'
No one is here just to live a bit of life.
But many think their lives are lived...
To despise, defy
And...
To backbite.
'Give me a gun.
Where is a knife.
I see somebody I just don't like.'
No one is here just to live a bit of life.
Or decide with a doing to refuse,
If the sugar isn't dunked in spice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem