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Sunday, May 31, 2015

Anthony Leonard Pierre "Prayer of Protection (592)" - Song Credit (translator)

"Prayer of Protection (592)" by Anthony Leonard Pierre

Song taken from the album "Pon Dat Very Day" - Cd: (4/30/2015)
Vocal performance by Anthony Leonard Pierre
Music by Obeah Akkompong band

"Prayer of Protection (592)" - Song lyrics (translator):

Ancestors - protect I from My friends
as My enemies don’t break bread with Me …
oh Ancestors who are charged with My wellbeing
on dutiful guard - protect I from My friends
uncalled for and out of character - it is they whom
who have become manifested liars and thieves
in so doing - deduced to raping the fruits of My Dreams
by corning My wounds - with their potted seasonings
My “be-friendliness” as blindfolded and led I
into the maze of mishaps - thereupon
My friends greed - saw this their windfall - uum protect I
see - while My enemies - at a distance for I to be watchful
experience - being aware of their advancing tactics
with diligence My Thoughts buffoon them - in contrary
it’s My friends hugging embrace
that’s proven to - tag the bulls-eye pon My naivety
so they go around tittle-tattling laughter at Me
a-moved - I am more to believe in My Duppy
watch Mi ‘Back’ - protect I from My friends.

Prayers - envision to I  My friends deeds
so I can be assured - not to harm My enemies …
oh daily Prayers
protect I from My friend’s whispering advices
while knowing of My certitude
the enemies plans and re-plans
their spies hire guards
in fear of My outbursts
thus - the cunning of My awareness
gives I time … to slip~a~fool to their preparedness
giving friends comfort-laugher in My astuteness
but - to entrap I in his servitude
it’s ‘hey-friend’ who - has slipped the surprised backstab
to solace his envy of My Creativity

it’s a sobering reality - that
sometimes one has to befriend one’s enemy - for
advised protection - from assault(s)
of one’s friend(s).

Dear “God” - My friends deceitfulness … has caused
My decisiveness to bring pray to You - for them
the stench of My friend’s bullshit
blows down hill - towards My enemy’s camp - thus
despite My well-intent camouflage
in this naïve amity
I am at forever … at a disadvantage - hence
in My awareness - tolerating the burdens
to become somebody - to keep this earned ‘shield’
ambition a Warrior must discern - save for
it’s the seasonings of My so-call friend’s pie
that blocks My ‘pipe’
bent-over from constipation - I then am exposed
out in the ‘green’
where even a pebble can - pick I off
in My recovery - as tired feet are slowed to a drag
this ungrateful fool - for no explained reason
aloofly he brawled in/is spitefulness
screaming directionally
exposing My position of weakness
oh shit Mamma
who now has My back
My enemies then
find it a-easy to crumble My special Prayers
of refuge
the survival realization is
once you identify to know them
one has to find the courage
and stab friend(s) … in the eyes.

Enemies and misfortune - please to give I a break
I need the time to protect Me from My friends’ deeds
so I can be assured an honest fight - on your return
oh Conscience
protect My lucidness from My friend’s resentments
a-laziness rousts pon his slight-mindedness
so instead of medicine of conscience cure
he consciously plots the cesspools of begrudge
in the placement that My naivety trod
My enemies then - are so outraged
their outstretched arms were My buoyancy in this vomit
oh unanswered Prayers - is this a sign of My faith’s testing
see where Your Warrior’s weary Soul lies - imagine
it’s been long the time since
I have such - restful Sleep
My Prayers now - are for My enemies’ wellbeing and safety
on their journey - back home
share with them the fruits of My labor - and
protect them Ancestors - from the traps
My friends convene
I’m leaving - these My friend to My Mother’s Prayers
She prays - protect Mi Pickney~o
suh - when prayers are answered
no one needs … uum.

Oh Ancestors - whom are charged with My wellbeing
when You ALL come charging - to protect My outcry
knock My enemies’ doors - as there
My defensiveness found shelter from My friends
My enemies’ bosom - is where
My cynical has found comfort
see - encircled by their shields - I am made to feel like a king
as - in the privacy of this surrounding
their untouched wombs - compassionately kiss-bath the salt
of My friend’s seasonings from My open wounds
recognize - their lips are now boiled.

Check out:
Anthony Leonard Pierre's Song lyrics, Profile & Discography on Reggaediscography

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