Moor Mother DIY Time Machine
My father can no longer speak
Something about pneumonia
Something in his brain
Something about swinging low sweet chariots
Laying there in Vietnam
I got war on my back get it off get it off
I got war on my back get it off get it off
Gave me that ease
He gave me all this heroin to sell
Help me poison the community
I came home all blown up
I got death on my back
I got death on my back
Swing low sweet chariots
Then (?) this penitentiary
So I can find religion
Get this death off my back
Sing it for me
Clutching brown bibles
With corn-rows in your hair
Sing it for me
On the phone through the glass while the nurse watching
She took my legs, I ain't leaving
I'll be here with this song in my head
They got me after all that running
After all them prayer since I was a little boy
My father baptized by the word
And run-ins with the holy ghost
Singing low to touch someone
We was singing in the penitentiary you know
Singing away the years
One time we sung the same song for five years
Next thing I knew, I was home back in the projects