Emmanuel Ojex

HELLO

Hi, it's your friend
Yeah, your longtime friend
...

In a nation filled with political miscreants and tyrants,
Led by unworthy leaders,
All moving towards the path of the gutter,
Despite her uncommon number of talented hustlers.
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THE STORY IN MY HEAD (The Man Sitting In Your Front)

He's not a human being - No, he is less of that
He might've been the one through whose sperm I permeated into my mother's vagina
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We are children of beggars
we have no choice but to automatically harness our little talent
or what we know it as
knowing how to beg and prolly wash cars
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It'll not be far
till my heart turns stiff
It's not going to last forever
I'm well aware of this
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Tell it to the mountains
tell it out loud that the world might hear
Wax up the steep and rugged hills, journey the valleys and fountains
tell them! oh tell them now that they are near
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it's not that the eyes can't see at times
it's just the brain that can't read -
the pain, dip as cells in our body; smeared on smiles
it's just that our brains can't read
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Where I ask, do they go?

do they wash down life upon the River Nile?
or hover around the sky hoping; someone someday, shall find?
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We war different battles
We joy different wins
My love...
what you see as blue is black to me
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Dear Kendra
Do you still say 'I am fine' when you are
.... slowly losing yourself to the noise only you can hear?
...echoes that keep you up at night
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A confused individual
Oh! I am in a state
a state of confusion
Where i don't know which way to go
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They say heaven and hell
will be the final in one's end
But to us, we're already there
We're already witnessing stage one on planet earth
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MIND OF A BEGGAR BOY

We're hungry
But we lacking
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WHILE I STARE

While I stare at the deep of the earth
I tear from my eyes
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BECOMING EIGHTEEN

Now I can go to jail
Have for myself, a bad name
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THE STORY IN MY HEAD
(Sounds Of Silence)

Would I have had it any better in life?
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IMAGINE

Imagine a world for no and everyone
Where we all are here to be as one and to save the world
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SWEET ARCHITECT (Emeli Sande)

Sweet architect!
I hope you are listening to the clamors in my head
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Do you see us when we cry?
When we try to hide our faces in the sand?
have you ever thought it through,
That these people might be hurt too
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Look at our daughters
They now show no ill in laying with men old as their fathers
Look at our sons
Nothing is holding them back from scamming the green people with their bad brain and laptops
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