[Intro: Kabaka Pyramid]
Life is a journey you know?
And on this path I’n’I come to many realizations
The evolution of thought to creation, u know?
[Verse 1: Kabaka Pyramid]
I remember when mi first start to question life
Age 7 ask questions why me de pon earth?
Is this my first or my second birth?
Or is it my third? Is that a number or is it a word?
Is life a noun or is it verb?
Is there a god weh a listen every single word weh mi think?
And when mi see the color red is it the same to you?
Or maybe what you explain is blue to me
What you perceive is individually risen from the prison of the mind literally
And your senses form defenses against the entry of frequencies weh them sen fi
And the ones them weh out of them reach
You say dem doh exist but a dem one de mi seak, yea
The preacher dem a preach, but in the end I teach myself to seek my self until the end of these
Dying days, I used to ask my how?
But now I put the why? in place
Instead I cook the wheat I cook the rye in place
Fi put my third eye in place, yea
[Chrous: Protoje]
And we’ve lost meaning
With all that’s going on with the life we’re leading
All in all, Great or small these feelings
Knowing that we’re blessed with the air we’re breathing
Believe me
Life is a journey you know?
And on this path I’n’I come to many realizations
The evolution of thought to creation, u know?
[Verse 1: Kabaka Pyramid]
I remember when mi first start to question life
Age 7 ask questions why me de pon earth?
Is this my first or my second birth?
Or is it my third? Is that a number or is it a word?
Is life a noun or is it verb?
Is there a god weh a listen every single word weh mi think?
And when mi see the color red is it the same to you?
Or maybe what you explain is blue to me
What you perceive is individually risen from the prison of the mind literally
And your senses form defenses against the entry of frequencies weh them sen fi
And the ones them weh out of them reach
You say dem doh exist but a dem one de mi seak, yea
The preacher dem a preach, but in the end I teach myself to seek my self until the end of these
Dying days, I used to ask my how?
But now I put the why? in place
Instead I cook the wheat I cook the rye in place
Fi put my third eye in place, yea
[Chrous: Protoje]
And we’ve lost meaning
With all that’s going on with the life we’re leading
All in all, Great or small these feelings
Knowing that we’re blessed with the air we’re breathing
Believe me
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