The statistics are too far gone to claim: us
Me and the girls that carry my anguish
Sometimes I want to find someone to blame
Someone to imprison with guilt or at the every least point a finger at…

Lethal injection and incomplete confession
They will never know what’s in my heart
They say it’s just like being at the dentist
Just a prick that will end this

It is not this drug that is killing me
It’s the syringe of truth and unfortunate coincidence
That most prisons are half-filled with black men
A common phenomenon
We are less than a quarter of the population
So tell me if these are not our homes
For like the ships they hold us in bulk
Keeping us in limbo, for we are truly don’t know

Lethal injection and incomplete confession
They will never know what’s in my heart
They say it’s just like being at the dentist
Just a prick that will end this

Yet this affliction is painless
But it tears me to the bottom of my spirit
Leaves no laceration
Yet I bleed like me spirit is being ripped apart
They will ask for a dying wish
And I will desire to tell the jury what I know now
My generation is thus that is being slain
By the Grim’s scythe of
Crack, smack, the click clack
And the bang bang
The few role models we have
Are half-filled with the common illusion
That we will all end up super stars
So I've got my Glock and smack
What now?

Lethal injection and incomplete confession
They will never know what’s in my heart
They say it’s just like being at the dentist
Just a prick that will end this

For it’s not this poison killing
But the pain within
Who will collect my mother’s tears
In their palms, take them away
And make her smile
Keep faith in Jesus used to say
So I accept Jah with all my being and flesh
Mind and once relentless spirit

Lethal injection and incomplete confession
They will never know what’s in my heart
They say it’s just like being at the dentist
Just a prick that will end this

For I have seen these four walls for too long
With any luck I’ll be going home
A place where I will be at peace
And meditate on this life past gone

Love is not what they claimed inhabited our relationship
It was desire masquerading as adorement
I spit in the face of tough love
This was not love when you left me
Outside in the rain; umbrella-less
You walked on
Made me choose between my divine path and you
Love is what warms me when I am alone
It screams my name and hugs me
Wipes my tears and tells me to laugh hard
Because it is my audience of one
Smiles when I leave its wings
Because it knows I one step behind my destiny
And it is following me
Love will be with me when I fail
Pick me up, kiss me and push me back out
It tells me that I am priceless
Everything about me is valuable
And no man deserves my virtues
It reads my palms and sees my future
Which it is an unvarying factor of,
Love is the void in my heart
For it is waiting for another heart
Voided just as big for a perfect fit
When I am no longer clouded, with teenage infatuation
When I have found the other heart,
I will tell you
So many times have given mine out first
This time; they will engage me with theirs
But for now
Love is what speaks to me at night
In morning tells me, I am a queen
And walks with me day after day.

30 years ago we walked free
Liberated from Rhodesia, we claimed Zimbabwe
Said goodbye to Ian Smith
Welcomed Robert Mugabe and hope
Ha! Would it not be the joke of the century?
One once said a bitter heart beats to a vindictive heart
The heart of this now malnourished beast
Is the war veteran – Mr Mugabe
Come to save the Zim natives from the white man
As it were – until he lost the plot
You point one finger but
My friend there’s three pointing back
Blame Blair once and we will triple your sentence
How does such a man sleep?
With the pain inside so deep
You can almost forget it;
Suffocate it with arrogance and the over used
My oh so favourite “it was Cecil Rhodes’ fault”
But look into a Zimbabwean child’s eyes and you will remember
That it is not his fault he was born to an AIDS positive teenage mother
And a father she can’t put a finger on
Because she was just another girl on the path of destruction
Used and thrown away
Maybe one day he will forgive you
But today he has to live with the fact that
There is no food on the table
But on Mugabe Avenue – they are feasting
How do you sit next to your mortal enemy?
Share a presidency that was corrupt from the start
How?
How do you share a rotting cake?
Where is new the side when they are both charred?
We will all be tarred with the same brush
All painted damaged goods
Because of one man’s thirst for power
When will it be enough?