I WRITE by PHOENIX JAMES Lyrics
I said it before
So I’m only going to say it once
I write for those born on the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th day of the month
I write for monks and Christians
Nuns and Hare Krishnas
Those who carry guns and ammunition
All governmental systems
Arabians, Muslims and ancient Egyptians
I write for all those in life desiring higher positions
I write for the man on a mission
And the independent woman making her own decisions
I write for Buddhists, Jews and Rastafarians
Hindus, vegans, meat eaters and vegetarians
I write for lawyers and librarians
Historians, Taureans and Aquarians
Sagittarians and all the others
I write for baby mothers
And baby fathеrs
Barbers
I write for the fishmongеrs down at the Barbados harbours
For the governments trying to starve us
Or retard us from feeding us garbage
I write for nurses and doctors
Surgeons, pilots in planes and helicopters
Hip-hoppers
Gatecrashers and show stoppers
Police and traffic-blockers
Menders
Street-vendors on street corners
Coroners and mourners
I write for crack heads and kids on mopeds
Divorcees and newlyweds
Widows and weed heads
I write for the dead
I write for presidents of countries
Asses and monkeys
Junk food junkies
Girls that dumped me
And the mob that once jumped me
I write for rapists and serial killers
Ex-cons and escaped prisoners
I write for forgiveness
I write pain because I live this
I write with vividness
To create vivid pictures with vivid images
I write for infidelity and religiousness
Believers and atheists
I write for the craziest and the laziest
I write for geologists and ufologists
All scientists in all sciences in all fields
I write for big deals so I can eat comfortably and not have to steal
I write what I feel
Hardly fictitious when it’s all real
It’s what knowledge is
I write for theologists
And fools
Colleges and schools
Tutors and students
Unions and movements
I write for health and institutions of self-improvement
I write for new-born babies
Men in uniform and scorned old ladies
I write for queens and kings
A drunkard
And two tramps going through rubbish bins
Natives and foreigners
Old war heroes and warriors
Emergency services and couriers
Beggars and borrowers
Campaign leaders
And followers
I write for United Nations
Illegal organisations
Miseducation
And my own denomination
Among the commuters of a packed out train station
I write for the man who tills the plantation
I write for aggravation and lack of patience
I write for maniacs and psychos
With no diagnosed head cases
I write in strange places
Sometimes alone, sometimes among strange faces
I write for status
And for those who think it’s wrong for me to want to be famous
I write shameless
Not careless or aimless
I write for world peace
I write for rappers, actors, singers and athletes
I write for night clubbers and lovers
Sisters and brothers
My one-night stands with no rubbers
I write for poetry and MC
For mic love and CD
For collection and PC
For music and movie
For dub and publicity
For love and unity
I write for you
I write for me
So hopefully we can see now
That the hand that writes
Is as good as the hand
That holds the plough
So I’m only going to say it once
I write for those born on the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th day of the month
I write for monks and Christians
Nuns and Hare Krishnas
Those who carry guns and ammunition
All governmental systems
Arabians, Muslims and ancient Egyptians
I write for all those in life desiring higher positions
I write for the man on a mission
And the independent woman making her own decisions
I write for Buddhists, Jews and Rastafarians
Hindus, vegans, meat eaters and vegetarians
I write for lawyers and librarians
Historians, Taureans and Aquarians
Sagittarians and all the others
I write for baby mothers
And baby fathеrs
Barbers
I write for the fishmongеrs down at the Barbados harbours
For the governments trying to starve us
Or retard us from feeding us garbage
I write for nurses and doctors
Surgeons, pilots in planes and helicopters
Hip-hoppers
Gatecrashers and show stoppers
Police and traffic-blockers
Menders
Street-vendors on street corners
Coroners and mourners
I write for crack heads and kids on mopeds
Divorcees and newlyweds
Widows and weed heads
I write for the dead
I write for presidents of countries
Asses and monkeys
Junk food junkies
Girls that dumped me
And the mob that once jumped me
I write for rapists and serial killers
Ex-cons and escaped prisoners
I write for forgiveness
I write pain because I live this
I write with vividness
To create vivid pictures with vivid images
I write for infidelity and religiousness
Believers and atheists
I write for the craziest and the laziest
I write for geologists and ufologists
All scientists in all sciences in all fields
I write for big deals so I can eat comfortably and not have to steal
I write what I feel
Hardly fictitious when it’s all real
It’s what knowledge is
I write for theologists
And fools
Colleges and schools
Tutors and students
Unions and movements
I write for health and institutions of self-improvement
I write for new-born babies
Men in uniform and scorned old ladies
I write for queens and kings
A drunkard
And two tramps going through rubbish bins
Natives and foreigners
Old war heroes and warriors
Emergency services and couriers
Beggars and borrowers
Campaign leaders
And followers
I write for United Nations
Illegal organisations
Miseducation
And my own denomination
Among the commuters of a packed out train station
I write for the man who tills the plantation
I write for aggravation and lack of patience
I write for maniacs and psychos
With no diagnosed head cases
I write in strange places
Sometimes alone, sometimes among strange faces
I write for status
And for those who think it’s wrong for me to want to be famous
I write shameless
Not careless or aimless
I write for world peace
I write for rappers, actors, singers and athletes
I write for night clubbers and lovers
Sisters and brothers
My one-night stands with no rubbers
I write for poetry and MC
For mic love and CD
For collection and PC
For music and movie
For dub and publicity
For love and unity
I write for you
I write for me
So hopefully we can see now
That the hand that writes
Is as good as the hand
That holds the plough