Skin of a drum
Saul williamsEach time I put them under
But still they wanna test me!
I cry out through the thunder
You storm right past me!
I search and I ponder.
I question and wonder.
I roar and I thunder.
Please let me in.
I've been waiting here for what now seem the better of an hour. I've raised every crippled question from the dead and given power to the abscense of my sanity. The presence of a fear that lies in between forgotten dreams that pile up every year. Up above your highest testaments, down below the wooden floor, there's a gutted room, pitch black at noon, beneath a hidden door. Deep within you'll find the attributes of every sunken man who must bang his head against the dead each day he tries to stand. And he's standing pressed against the very woman that he loves. Kissing eyes and lips, embracing hips, surrendering to her touch and just at the very moment that he touches heart to heart, she pulls from his touch, 'cause it's too much to mend what's torn apart...
Each time I put them under
But still they wanna test me!
I cry out through the thunder
You storm right past me!
I search and I ponder.
I question and wonder.
I roar and I thunder.
Please let me in.
It's so hard to be the man I would be if hatred and fear no longer appeared. I swear, I've become the skin of a drum, the heart of a man. Divided I stand.