Scatterlings of Africa
I kicked him to the curb three classes in.
Two years and four men later, I'm the queen of non-commitment
But I still go to class on Wednesday nights from eight to ten.
Thursday through Tuesday I'll buy those magazines
With the half-translucent models and the articles on pleasing men,
I curse myself at every meal do penance and do buns of steel
And on Wednesday nights I find myself again.
Watch her whirl, watch her sway
Sometimes we go to see her gig down at the Marrakesh café
Every movemen
Wind of Change
In the streets of New York City
ev'ry man can feel the cold.
And I don't want no pity,
but I want my story told.
When the lights shine down on me,
they shine on the little boy.
Is this way to make him pay;
be'ng born in a world of joy.
But like me
he don't know where he'll go wrong;
he won't cry so many tears
till he finds out why he don't belong like me.
there's no room for us out there;
you can lose your hope and pride.
When it comes to broken dreams
you'll get your share.
Sometime a man breaks down,
and the good thing he is looking for
are crushed into the ground.
Get on up, look around;
can't you feel the wind of change?
Get on up, taste the air;
can't you see the wind of change;
Don't you understand what I'm sayin',
we need a god down there.
A man to lead us children,
take us from the valley of fear.
Make the lights shine down on us,
show us the road to go.
Help us survive, make us arrive,
teach us what we need to know.
But like me
he don't know where he'll go wrong;
he won't cry so many tears
till he finds out why he don't belong like me.
there's no room for us out there;
you can lose your hope and pride.
When it comes to broken dreams
you'll get your share.
Sometime a man breaks down,
and the good thing he is looking for
are crushed into the ground.
Get on up, look around;
can't you feel the wind of change?
Get on up, taste the air;
can't you see the wind of change;
Get on up ...