BICENTENARY OF SLAVE TRADE ABOLITION

March 23, 2007

CRADLE
by nocturnal

I was born in the grave of miseries
I am the legitimate son of slavery.

You can’t feel me, I am an illusion
You can only taste my confusion
That I am made of, that never pays off.

You were born with a hallowed ring
You didn’t have to be baptised in a pool of sin
I just wail, you only sing
I’m a slave, you’re a king
I’m a slave, you’re a king

But I’ve got all my reasons
To scrap off your prison
And swap with you my lesion
My lesion.

I’m possessed by a rebellious demon
That compels me to fly to my Eden
My cradle, my freedom.

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