(I'm not dead).
Carnival Poem I
The music whips you into mania
And the sweat of the masses incites to ecstasy
If religion is the opiate,
This is the tonic.
Sweet like cascadoo,
Rush of power like cocaine,
Addictive like morphine.
We are the vessels
The street is the vein
Infecting all with
Wuk-up-yuh-waist-osis
And free-up-yuh-self-itis.
It is a chronic epidemic
Where the only cure
Is to succumb to the disease;
More riddim,
More kaiso,
More tempo.
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