dear ras
i greet de lyaans
in their roar of marble
frozen in their gloss of postcard

i greet u lyaan
in yr mane of fire
yr den of selassie
yr glut of slave flesh

what a boom of exploding riff
what a tremor of bassline
thunder of drum
yr rock of voice
whatta bomb-bomb
yr stained finger of kaya
calling from mount zion

lissen ras lissen here,
jus don let de green of de spliff,
curtain u from the red of mah blood
as piggin babylon runs with de gold

don let de rhythm ride u
when mah glass of freedom splinters
don let u be muted rub-a-dub
to de clang-a-lang-lang of de chain
as mah green of tomorrow
gives in at de knee
lissen ras
i write u so short
as outside fire mounts up de road
des a firebomb shattering
brotha's skull goes a-cracking
while de blinking on/off blue light
& de noising pierce of siren scream
confuse de night

remember lyaan
death hovers above like ready vultures
mah bass is de fire
blood muffles de drum
& de mic gurgles red

i'll keep u de yelling red
while i chase de looted gold
mah green is a bridge to u

till then
ras
keep de lyaans roaring,
xex