Skin on the Drum Michael Franti & Spearhead

I was born botanical
The soul of an animal
Deep beneath the layers, I sink my roots
No need for mechanical
I come strictly organical
When I need to feast, I look to the East
That's why I'm never scared of the beast
Even though they try to prey upon me
I'm protected by the one always greater than me
So now I reveal to thee
Because you wanna see
The contour of my mystery
The strength of my arches
The colour of my conscience
And the way that I process my diction
Some fact some diction some mystery
Some future fantasy
I'm the trunk that holds the branches
The leaves who do the dances
My flowers romantic
My love gigantic
From Africa, transplanted translantic
In the heat of the sun
I bring shade for everyone
Like the beat on the one
I'm the skin on the drum