Bobby, the Rastaman
Bobby, the rastaman
Never wait for the I to come,
He waited for his Black Starliners
Nothing more
Bobby, the rastaman
Sang his reggae songs
To veil his mind
From the misery of life,
And all day would read his Bible
And watch the sea
For Marcus Garvey prophecy,
But he never wait for me.
And I wanted to see him one more time
To hold his hand
And march in the hills with him
Bringing rich Maroon lore
Like a bankra to his door.
I wanted to tell my nephew
I am not afraid of his dreadlocks
And that I am proud of him
Wearing the true identity
Of the Nazarite
The Melchizedekkan Black man
But he was waiting for the Blackstarliner
Bobby, the rastaman
Did not wait for me.
Copyright © L'Nass Shango | Year Posted 2009
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