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Gil Scott-Heron
Gil Scott-Heron


Информация
Настоящее имя Gilbert Scott-Heron
Дата рождения 1 апреля 1949 г.
Место рождения Chicago, Illinois, U.S.
Жанры Soul
Годы 1969—н.в.
Лейблы Arista Records
RCA Records
TVT Records
См. также Brian Jackson



Альбом Gil Scott-Heron


I'm New Here (2010)
2010
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My Cloud
. . .


I want to make this a special tribute
To a family that contradicts the concepts
Heard the rules but wouldn't accept
And women-folk raised me
And I was full grown before I knew
I came from a broken home

Sent to live with my grandma down south
When my uncles was leaving
And my grandfather had just left for heaven
They said and as every-ologist would certainly note
I had no strong male figure, right?
But Lily Scott was absolutely not your mail order room service type cast black grandmother
I was moved in with her; temporarily, just until things were patched,
'Til this was patched and 'til that was patched
Until I became at 3, 4, 5,6 ,7, 8, 9 and 10
The patch that held Lily Scott who held me and like them 4
I become one more and I loved her from the absolute marrow of my bones
And we was holdin' on,
I come from a broken home

She had more then the 5 senses
She knew more then books could teach
And raised everyone she touched just a little bit higher
And all around her there was a natural sense
As though she sensed what the stars say, what the birds say
What the wind and the clouds say
A sensual soul and self, that African sense
And she raised me like she raised 4 of her own
And I was hurt and scared and shocked when Lily Scott left suddenly one night
And they sent a limousine from heaven to take her to God, if there is one.
So I knew she had gone;
And I came from a broken home

. . .



Early this morning
when you knocked
upon my door (2x)
An I say
Hello Satan
I believe its time to go
Me and the Devil
Walking side by side (2x)
And I'm gonna see my woman
'til I get satisfied
See See
You don't see why
Like you'a dog me 'round
*Now babe you know I ain't do it like that
Say I
Don't see why
people dawging me around
It must be that old old evil spirit
that spirit drop me down in your ground
you may
bury my body
down by the highway side
*I don't really care where you bury me when I'm gone
I'm gone
you may bury my body
down by the highway side
So my old evil spirit
can greyhound
bus that ride

. . .


No, no, no, no

I did not become someone different
I did not want to be

But I'm new here
Will you show me around?
No matter how far wrong you've gone
You can always turn around

Met a woman in a bar
I told her I was hard to get to know
And near impossible to forget
She said I had an ego on me, the size of Texas

Well, I'm new here and I forget
Does that mean big or small?
No matter how far wrong you've gone
You can always turn around

And I'm shedding plates like a snake
And it may be crazy
But I'm the closest thing I have
To a voice of reason

Turn around, turn around, turn around
And you may come full circle
And be new here again

. . .


Standing in the ruins of another black man's life
Or flying through the valley separating day and night
"I am death!" cried the vulture for the people of the light
Karon brought his raft from the sea that sails on souls
And saw the scavenger departing, taking warm hearts to the cold
He knew the ghetto was a haven for the meanest creature ever known
In the wilderness of heartbreak and a desert of despair
Evil's clarion of justice shrieks a cry of naked terror
Taking babies from their mamas, leaving grief beyond compare
So if you see the vulture coming, flying circles in your mind
Remember there is no escaping for he will follow close behind
Only promise me a battle, battle for your soul and mine
And mine

. . .


I know you've been hurt by someone else
I can tell by the way you carry yourself
But if you let me, here's what I'll do
I'll take care of you

I've loved and I lost the same as you
So you see I know just what you've been through
And if you let me, here's what I'll do
I'll take care of you

You won't ever have to worry
You won't ever have to whine
For I'll be there beside you
To dry your weeping eye

So darling tell me that you'll be true
There's no doubt in my mind, I know what I want to do
And then just as sure as one and one is two
I know I'll take care of you

I'll take care of you
I'll take care of you
I'll take care of you

. . .


Long ago the clock washed midnight away
Bringing the dawn
Oh God, I must be dreaming
Time to get up again
And time to start up again
Pulling on my socks now
Should have been asleep
When I was sitting there drinking beer
And trying to start another letter to you
Don't know how many times I dreamed to write again last night
Should've been asleep when I turned the stack of records over and over
So I wouldn't be up by myself
Where did the night go?
Should go to sleep now
And say f*ck a job and money
Because I spend it all on unlined paper and can't get past
"Dear baby, how are you?"
Brush my teeth and shave
Look outside, sky is dark
Think it may rain
Where did...
Where did...
Where did...

. . .


Yeah the doctors don't know, but New York was killing me,
Bunch of doctors coming round, they don't know
That New York is killing me
Yeah I need to go home and take it slow in Jackson, Tennessee

Let me tell ya fast city ain't living all
It's cracked up to be
Fast city living it all
It's cracked up to be
Yes seem I need to go home
And slow down in Jackson, Tennessee

Yes I lay down, I lay down
The doctor: "Try to take it all in"
Yeah lay down, lay down
To try to take it all in
(Take it all in)

Yeah you got 8 million people
And I didn't have a single friend
Don't you know, don't you know
New York was killing me
Yes, I was standing nearly dying here
New York was killing me
Seems like I need to start over
And move back home in Jackson, Tennessee

Lord have mercy, mercy on me
Yeah Lord have mercy, have mercy on me
Tell him to bury my body back home in Jackson, Tennessee
Yeah Lord have mercy, have mercy on me

Yeah I need to be back home, need to be back home,
Need to be back home, need to be back home yeah
Born in Chicago but I go home Tennessee
Yeah I born in Chicago but I ...

. . .


Because I always feel like running
Not away, because there is no such place
Because, if there was I would have found it by now
Because it's easier to run,
Easier than staying and finding out you're the only one...who didn't run
Because running will be the way your life and mine will be described
As in "the long run"
Or as in having given someone a "run for his money"
Or as in "running out of time"
Because running makes me look like everyone else, though I hope there will ever be cause for that
Because I will be running in the other direction, not running for cover
Because if I knew where cover was, I would stay there and never have to run for it
Not running for my life, because I have to be running for something of more value to be running and not in fear
Because the thing I fear cannot be escaped, eluded, avoided, hidden from, protected from, gotten away from,
Not without showing the fear as I see it now
Because closer, clearer, no sir, nearer
Because of you and because of that nice
That you quietly, quickly be causing
And because you're going to see me run soon and because you're going to know why I'm running then
You'll know then
Because I'm not going to tell you now

. . .


His eyes half-closed revealed this world of nod(?).
a world of lonely men and no love.
oh god.
his life of seeming nonchalance can't hide
the pain and fear that in his mind resign.
from dawn till dawn his bodyhouse (/body, house?) was hurting and none of us can truly ...???.
we sat outside and ??? the ??
the fool is always easy to forecast others doom.
the savage beast that once soul-soothe/so soothed his brain,
has wired his ugly head and stirred/stayed (?) its claim and
called ???
here is his once more soul. he will have to add the sorrow's thole.
this men, still men will be like you and me(an ?).
upon the world reached out, they chose to flee.

crutch.

crutch.

. . .


And so my life has been guided
All the love I needed was provided
And through my mothers sacrifices I saw where her life went
To give more than birth to me, but life to me
And this ain't one of the clichés about black women being strong
Cause hell if you're weak, you're gone
But life courage determined to do more than just survive
And too many homes have a missing woman or man
Without the feeling of missing love
Maybe they are homes that are hurt
But they are no real lives that hurt without reach
But not broken
Unless the homes of soldiers – stationed overseas
Or lost in battles or broken
Unless the homes of firemen, policemen, construction workers,
seamen, railroad men, truckers, pilots
Who lost their lives – but not what their lives stood for...
Because men die, men lose, they are lost and they leave
And so do women ...
I came from what they called „a broken home“
But they ever really called it „a house“
They would have known how wrong they were
We were working on our lives and our homes
Dealing with what we had, not what we didn't have
My life has been guided by women
But because of them – I am the man.
God bless you mama – and thank you.

. . .


A junkie walking through the twilight
I'm on my way home
I left three days ago, but no one seems to know I'm gone
Home is where the hatred is
Home is filled with pain and it,
might not be such a bad idea if i never, never went home again

stand as far away from me as you can and ask me why
hang on to your rosary beads
close your eyes to watch me die
you keep saying, kick it, quit it, kick it, quit it
God, but did you ever try
to turn your sick soul inside out
so that the world, so that the world
can watch you die

home is where I live inside my white powder dreams
home was once an empty vacuum that's filled now with my silent screams
home is where the needle marks
try to heal my broken heart
and it might not be such a bad idea if I never, if I never went home again
home again
home again
home again
kick it, quit it
kick it, quit it
kick it, quit it
kick it, can't go home again

. . .


From the Indians who welcomed the pilgrims
And to the buffalo who once ruled the plains
Like the vultures circling beneath the dark clouds
Looking for the rain
Looking for the rain

Just like the cities staggered on the coastline
Living in a nation that just can't stand much more
Like the forest buried beneath the highway
Never had a chance to grow
Never had a chance to grow

And now it's winter
Winter in America
Yes and all of the healers have been killed
Or sent away, yeah
But the people know, the people know
It's winter
Winter in America
And ain't nobody fighting
'Cause nobody knows what to save
Save your soul, Lord knows
From Winter in America

The Constitution
A noble piece of paper
With free society
Struggled but it died in vain
And now Democracy is ragtime on the corner
Hoping for some rain
Looks like it's hoping
Hoping for some rain

And I see the robins
Perched in barren treetops
Watching last-ditch racists marching across the floor
But just like the peace sign that vanished in our dreams
Never had a chance to grow
Never had a chance to grow

And now it's winter
It's winter in America
And all of the healers have been killed
Or been betrayed
Yeah, but the people know, people know
It's winter, Lord knows
It's winter in America
And ain't nobody fighting
Cause nobody knows what to save
Save your souls
From Winter in America

And now it's winter
Winter in America
And all of the healers done been killed or sent away
Yeah, and the people know, people know
It's winter
Winter in America
And ain't nobody fighting
Cause nobody knows what to save
And ain't nobody fighting
Cause nobody knows, nobody knows
And ain't nobody fighting
Cause nobody knows what to save

. . .


Basie was never really commonplace
He was always measures ahead.
Ellington was more than number one
For the music and things that he said.
Bird was the word back when tenors were heard
From Kansas right up to the Prez
And Billie was really the Queen of a scene
That keeps echoing on in my head.

What it has will surely last but is that Jazz?

Miles had a style that amazes and raises
The spirits from deep in your soul.
'Trane struck a vein of laughter and pain
Adventures the mind could explore.
Stevie and Bob talk of freedom and 'Jah'
In their own individual ways.
Playing and singing as long as its bringing
A message is all that it says.

What is has will surely last but is that Jazz?

We overanaylze we let others define
A thousand precious feelings from our past.
When we express love and tenderness
Is that Jazz? Is that Jazz? Is that Jazz? Is that Jazz?
Dizzy's been busy while Grover gets us over
With notes that go straight to the heart.
Brother Ron gets it on with a bassline so strong
That the sounds seem to glow in the dark.
I take pride in what's mine - is that really a crime -
When you know I ain't got nothing else?
Only millions of sounds picks me up when I'm down;
Let me salvage a piece of myself.

What it has will surely last but is that Jazz?

. . .

My Cloud

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. . .


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