The Soil. Art funk rock скачать в хорошем качестве

The Soil. Art funk rock

(Verse 1) I was walking by the shoreline with a friend in the sun, He said, “Tell me why this world became what it’s become. Why do strangers bring their cargo to our sand, While my people live so simple, at the mercy of the land?” I listened to the ocean, heard the ancient undertow — The answer’s not in blood, my friend… It’s in the soil we sow. (Chorus) Oh it’s not the mind, not the color of the skin, It’s the ground beneath our feet we’re standing in. Where the seeds could grow, where the cattle roamed, Where the east-west rivers freely flowed. Guns and steel are fruits on an old, old tree — One love, one destiny, Different shores, same sea. (Verse 2) Some learned how to herd the wild, some sowed the barley grain, In the east the sun kept rising on the open plain. Asia stretched from dawn to dusk — one endless land, While jungle walls and mountains shaped another hand. Don’t go searching villains in twisted history — We’re children of geography. (Chorus) Oh it’s not the mind, not the color of the skin, It’s the ground beneath our feet we’re standing in. Where the seeds could grow, where the cattle roamed, Where the east-west rivers freely flowed. Guns and steel are fruits on an old, old tree — One love, one destiny, Different shores, same sea. (Bridge) The germs came like a thief in the quiet of the night, Brought down mighty empires without a fight. Immunity’s a memory of pain we knew before, And steel was just a lucky spark Found on a certain shore. Don’t build your throne on accident, Don’t worship at that door. (Verse 3) So tell it to your brother, tell your sister too, We all began as equals when the world was new. Biology’s the melody, geography’s the beat, No one’s born above another, no one born to face defeat. Look beneath the surface, don’t be blinded by the blade — Truth is light that never fades. (Final Chorus) Not the mind, not the bloodline drawn, But the rivers, fields and rising dawn. From the mountain high to the valley low, We reap the things the climates grow. Guns and steel are chapters in a story told — But the human spirit Is not bought or sold. One love… one destiny… Different shores… same sea.