Lyrics:
light.
(Verse 3)
Through the market stalls, where deals are made,
A farmer's spirit, not to be swayed.
In the city's embrace, he finds his way,
From
apartment, the farmer's market
Your broken window and tattered carpet
Pair of your shoes in my glove compartment
And cigarettes in the garden
Make love to you
more perogies on
Please stay, we'd love to have you
Oh, and by the way, my son says he bought an
Album from you on his doorstep in the city"
Mighty
Nothing ever could break or harm
The charm of London Town.
In our city darkened now, street and square and crescent,
We can feel our living past in our
Garden Market where the costers cry.
Cockney feet
Mark the beat of history.
Every street
Pins a memory down.
Nothing ever can quite replace
Garden Market where the costers cry.
Cockney feet
Mark the beat of history.
Every street
Pins a memory down.
Nothing ever can quite replace
Flea market's early morning sun
Laemmle Theater, Orange Grove
The antiquing yields a treasure trove
If you're driving down south from over the city
You
Garden Market where the costers cry.
Cockney feet
Mark the beat of history.
Every street
Pins a memory down.
Nothing ever can quite replace
Nothing ever could break or harm
The charm of London Town.
In our city darkened now, street and square and crescent,
We can feel our living past in our
farmers are able to reach the same market within a ten-minute time frame.
If it weren't for your sacrifices in constructing the Central Luzon Link Freeway,
At the farmer's market with my so called girlfriend
She hands me her cell phone, says it's my dad
Man, this ain't my dad!
This is a cell phone!
I threw it
At the farmer's market with my so called girlfriend
She hands me her cell phone, says it's my dad
Man, this ain't my dad!
This is a cell phone!
I threw it
dozen machetes bought from flea markets silently run by the fruiterers, silently run by the butchers, silently run by farmers, silently run by the blue
The farmer's market's full of rancid fruit
I'm pedaling toffee from an empty booth
Salt water can make mountains move
But it won't sweep away this
face, lookin retarded
I got ten of these, bands and you can't have none, beg your pardon
Poppin red or green, what I get for cheap from farmer's market
a nation on the verge
Take Actavis off the market, jack the price up on the syrup
But Purdue farmer's 'bout to move that work
My drug dealer was
the market wearin' her last used jeans
She picks up a roast then changes her mind
Puts it back down and buys some more beans
Her old man's workin' in
August 27th, I'm a get to that
You either die a hero or you live to see yourself become the villain
I've been showin support to all the labels in my city
pressure
Yea
I don't affiliate with rappers that signed off their records
Yea
I'm straight from farmers market, so my roots be so original
Like how he do
I've walked along the city streets, I've climbed a mountainside
I've been lost amidst the shuffling feet, I've stood alone against the sky
I've bent
standby
Powers, but then he used them, all at once
He froze wages, he froze
Prices, he froze jobs, he stopped
Profit's, he dictated to the farmer
What he
and the squeeze and the pulp
Talking down on my city beat him down to a pulp
Farmer's market fresh
Making produce while I produce
Every move is calculated add it up
don’t really mean to brag
Go out to the farmers market then go pop some tags
Because I’m always sweaty spent 300 on a rag
I ride around my tractor I don't
imperialism for new markets to maintain function
Power is asserted diving the world
And strengthening imaginary boundaries
Securing flow of trade and limiting
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