Light Rain

Eu estava ali, ouvindo Wyclef Jean...
Entendendendo porra nenhuma, Ingles, creoule, pobre frances.
Detesto hip hop, pop, house and rap...
Shut the fuck up...
O cara domina, conciencia social, a voz que Deus lhe deu, paz Deus, voz que voce me Deu, voz ...
A voz que Deus me deu.
Deus me deu algo importante, gosto e ternura para entender que somos todos iguais...
Voce me ameaca com seu 42, e eu lhe peço, tenha piedade, estamos todos no movimento, tentando sobreviver, contra um sistema que nao nos apologiza, suprime e nos oprime ...
Sem entender porra nenhuma voce nao me atira, piedade ...
And I was thinking of my brother, Merrill Clark, luckly the only person that I know that is moved by music, by sounds, by the right or wrong of a dissonant cord...
Ahhhh, odd times, odd cords, odd people, it's all good
It's all odd.
Come you all, please come in, we're not at all perfect...
We're all sinners...
LOL, that's the essence of life.
Please come in ...
Scars, crack, hype ....
As if we are all wicked,
maybe on crack,
All funny,cozy and warm .
scrapping for the next meal...
And "like a rolling stone" is playing in the background of my mind..
I'm asking you, how do you feel?
We're not all gangster, where are not all that bad,
There are new or old or good hearts in my world.
And the music leaves on, even when my heart misses a beat
and my heart gets a jump start from the mishaps of Wall Street.
Wall street, whores in the streets.
We're all whores, looking for the next meal, for the next big deal,
life's worse ordeal,
right or wrong, for rich or poor ...
And I love Hermeto Pascoal, even
when songs in my mind are flying like Wyclef Jean..
Black, Haitian and once poor.
Could've been worse.
Haitian, black, gay and poor.
But not worse, if you feed on the poor
greedy mother fuckers, with your 10 million green back home in the hill....
Revolution, prostitution, liberty.
It's all Insanity....
Please just tell me who is free!!!!
Tell me If your ass is free.
My mind rolls
like donuts feeding the heroine addicted sugar fiend..
And fast as my mind spins, rapid thoughts as a Viper V 10 nrunning in my brains, oh my brains, thinking as fast as the speed of light, fast as a poor man's stinking fart.
And I wonder (Not as if I only think shit)
Will  the 5 0 stop me down in the dirty west side hwy?
Will He issue my head a summons
for speeding? ...
And way I go
thinking about the hoe
the crack head , and the sugar fiend..
And about Life
Yours and mine.
The Life that makes no sense
and where I dance,
with the hoe, the wall street broker
and the dirty mother fucker rats ....


Max Tuta Noronha