Concrete Rivers (1970s UK dub fusion reggae)

Dem seh come to de mother land, Streets wid gold pon de London sand. But wi land pon concrete so cold, Smoky fog where de stories told. Rise up early, four a de clock, Frost pon window, body in shock. Bus pass by, dem leave wi behind, Grey grey sky inna human mind. But wi roots run deep, deeper than dem know, Even concrete cyaan stop wi fi grow. We a flow like river through de stone, Carry Mama's spirit all alone. But wi roots run deep, deeper than dem know, London cold but wi heart burn a-glow. From de storm wi bend but never break, Black British steps dat wi haffi take. Saturday market pon de road, Ackee food fi lighten de load. Old man slammin' him domino, Dat a de only life he know. Council estate pickney a run, Nuh see no hate under de sun. Nuh see no hate... ...under de sun Carry de future pon dem back, Proud a de culture, nuh tek back. But wi roots run deep, deeper than dem know, Even concrete cyaan stop wi fi grow. We a flow like river through de stone, Carry Mama's spirit all alone. But wi roots run deep, deeper than dem know, London cold but wi heart burn a-glow. From de storm wi bend but never break, Black British steps dat wi haffi take. From Brixton town to Hackney street, Handsworth and Leeds, wi feel de beat. Brixton... ...Hackney Plant wi people like strong, strong seed, Find de will fi what wi a need. But wi roots run deep, deeper than dem know, Even concrete cyaan stop wi fi grow. We a flow like river through de stone, Carry Mama's spirit all alone. But wi roots run deep, deeper than dem know, London cold but wi heart burn a-glow. From de storm wi bend but never break, Black British steps dat wi haffi take. Still wi flow... Wi flow... ...wi flow