C_Goomba - The Gravel [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

The Gravel (100th ghetto sermon)

Our modern youth is a face that is bruised and battered
A diamond that is shattered
A priceless document shredded and tattered
In the past I gave 99 other urban sermons before , but it felt on deaf ears they all acted like it didn’t’ matter

So I am on my 100th and I only hope it sparks a fire that doesn’t spread and destroy, but makes us drop the bong and lead and illuminates the mind and heart of every young and old girl and boy

I wasn’t born in the land of milk and honey and peaches and cream
No lavender, leather or silk. Just cloudy days never sunny it’s reality in the shape of a bad bream

The only sea we in the inner city see is one of concrete
If that be the case I feel like Jesus walking down these hostile streets

One of the purest forms of beauty of love become contaminated
Tiny tots become seeds of lust hate and greed, laying lament and helplessly and blindly contributing to the calamity

But in every sea of concrete arises a rose
A rose that arose from the ground knowing where it stands and goes no matter the sound it’s toes stay true to it’s roots

I’m not talking about cartoons where the main characters are perfectly built physically and the parents are always married
The weather is that of Miami and the names are Mammy, Tammy, Bobby, Billy and Mandy

In the inner city we all have scars. Not so much what the eyes see but what the heart feels
Many weeds surround these rose seeds as it grows and adapts from being a follower to a leader of the people

The fresh springs of education. Book smart being fertilizer, and Street smart being the water

But no one wants to listen, instead we ignorant walking around searching for love when we know not of it
Having over a thousand friends when we only talk to five of them

Life is a big lottery and a big raffle where God’s hand reaches in the pit and claims a lucky number for himself

Life in every hood is trifle. I have an attitude because I’m broke, and every problem seems to big to handle so we resort weed. ‘Toke till you choke’
I got the whole weight of the world on my shoulders which must explain why I feel weighted down with my feet kicking the rocks on the ground and head facing the gravel

The federal government, despite dept. can afford to distort and retort foreign peace and policies but can give words of comfort to an orphan or preach peace in our streets

There must be some sort of a condom wrapped around our head because we see truth and knowledge as a disease so we contracept it
And prevent it from seeping in and taking control of our being

So ask. Are you a rose grown out of concrete? A rough and rugged angel with Broken wings surrounded by devils that claim to profess perfection? Will you be a rock that stands firm? Or will you crumble and fade away into the day. Continue to pray and rely on the Most High for a day anew, because the rose that I’m talking about is you