Philosophy out on the street

Has no limits.

Commentary and conclusions,

Risk of life and limb.

Anywhere they just don’t care,

Sprayed with a can.

 

What is said is NOT what is wrote ;

Claims for freedom.

 

Urban Scrawl is a native call, my friend.

Where is my place in this jungle ?

When do I get to call something my own ?

 

Tell me what you think with a rock

In my window.

Stop me in the dark takin’ my watch ;

You call it business.

But I can’t see your eyes or your face,

So you don’t have a name.

 

If this is the path to freedom boy,

It’s a shame !

 

Urban Scrawl is a native call, my friend.

Where is my place in this jungle ?

When do I get to call something my own ?

 

Graffitti wall, territory tagged and all

Sub-divided.

Children go to school walkin’ past the cool

And unemployed.

Deals and propositions of money and positions

To avoid.

 

Freedom ain’t just about money, boy,

It’s about choice !

 

Urban Scrawl is a native call, my friend.

Where is my place in this jungle ?

When do I get to call something my own ?

 

Music : Bobby Dunn/ Gilles Guigue

Lyrics : Bobby Dunn

©November 2013