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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I chose the reggae mix Not because i have long hair Not because i have read eyes Not because I chew the cud Just because i love selector I chose to listen Because of Selector He reigns in the kingdom Of my old box radio With his maroon black suit he mixes better Pulling his aerials I know the battery cells were dieing But i didn't know selector Was sick The copper meal was turning metallic I hit my cassette tape And put in selector's box Selectors tuxedo was moving with rhythm Reggae tone, Nine one one mixing As sleep squeezed Juice out of my marbles Till my mouth was left hanging open with malt juice stretching like magma From my endless pit As i enjoyed the madness snoozing.. When the sleep bondage Let me free Shock welcomed me from the world of more sleep more slander To a world still like the grace The whole house was dead I could smell the corpse in my socks And silence reminded me my bottle Selector was mixing nothing I could only hear his shoe kicking The mixer Since It is you to kick the bucket Not selector I chose to unscrew my box radio With my eyes about to fall from the socket Sorrow was waiting for me With wide fangs Selector was there Sleeping between positive and negative the cockroach was dead I was pissed off To discover that selector Had gone to meet Lucky Dude In paradise I chose the Cosby fish coffin Knelt and spit on the floor sneezed two times and walked to my neighbor Do you have any bored selector there? I asked a fool who studied world war two And chose to practice it on my selector dudes My neighbor stared at me And I asked again Do you have any cockroaches you give me one He thought i was crazy I remembered he is lawyer The best he does is wear a black suit Like that of young selector Yes i smoked evaporated from my hair And i remembered young selector The Sound mixer who went on strike And feasted on my green shirt For not buying him a radio box I found him In the corner of a cupboard Mourning his papa I said come dude, don't mourn Big selector He went to meet Bob money I will be nice to you You will be my selector Come we mix 'don't worry be happy tone' I put him in the radio box At the sit of the late selector Gave him morale by putting new charged batteries And I screamed Rock dem' selecto I turned on the radio box And my new hired selector Was like his late dad he mixed my best hit 'Don't worry, die happy Rest In Peace DJ selector
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