Lyrics:
Tuesday morning, 8:15
I was riding to work on the
Jackson Park Express
Seemed like any other day
Then my whole world changed
In a way I never could
Tuesday morning, 8:15
I was riding to work on the
Jackson Park Express
Seemed like any other day
Then my whole world changed
In a way I never
I was waiting in the express lane with my twelve items or less
At the checkout counter at the local grocery store
I was only passing by
But a paper
Midweek and we reached scarlet town
I was almost dying of thirst
We parked the car in some old schoolyard
The windscreen caked in dirt
There was
Fried fish at the docks at Istanbul Sirkeci
A glass of red at Gare de L'est
Munich, Vienna, Budapest
The orient express
A pelmeni plate in Volgograd
up it to me?
You know, mmm-hmm?
I know you you got women beating your door down
Layin' there?
And You got express service going on over there
But
Maybe there’s some other way
I can express my gratitude
But the presence of so many friendly strangers makes me nervous
And it doesn’t mean that I’m not
up it to me?
You know, mmm-hmm?
I know you you got women beating your door down
Layin' there?
And You got express service going on over there
But
service,
For your service,
For your service thank you,
Second Verse:
For all those times you laid it all on the line,
Time after Time Time after Time,
hard
Bus all him sweat fa sell a million record
While some people a relex a dem yard
Si down and a draw bad card
Well then the bag a lip service it
and touched my life
Now you make me a vessel unto you
Santali Mai daraja (santali Mai daraja)
Now Bible studies yes Midweek service yes
Now I be prayer
Dreamland
Dreamland
Detroit to LA with my heart
Dreamland
Marilyn Monroe, stars of thy nights
Chinese man theater studio glam
Express yourself no
'cha
Fuck you and whoever came witcha
Trying to express the beautiful pain witcha
Like a tattoo of a framed picture
Of a dead homie, maybe a family
Midweek service, Wednesday
Choir practice, Saturday
To ba tun di Sunday, service meji la maa se
21 days, 100 days
Se la'n gb'awe a'n gbadura
And yet it
why you stuck in the mire, with no will or desire
Depressed, repressed, and on a downhill express
Me, I suggest you try a new approach
Stop feeling
doin' anything
Stopped the answering service because I knew my phone would ring
Heard it ring once so I picked it up and said hello
It's Dr. Dre,
by force of arms
Military service in a nuclear reactor
Asylum for big earners only
And tomorrow we fire god
They've got their own language
and burn
Some time mi feel me no deserve
Just reserve the curse
Pon me yeaaah
I have done my service
Sometime me feel me fi leave earth
Can’t really
Back when she was on the same block that I would service
Said, "It's straight," we need a place up in Jamaica estates
And she was like, "Oh no" in
ore mi
Pa pa laiye
Pa pa laiye je
Opportunity dey come and dey go
What you do with it becomes your platform to rise
You too gat to express yourself
found a soft spot
Somewhere in the middle of my sense of humor
And my sense of purpose
A love of music and a heart for service
Worries faded and feelings
and whoever came witcha
Trying to express the beautiful pain witcha
Like a tattoo of a framed picture
Of a dead homie, maybe a family member
I got some gambling
and whoever came witcha
Trying to express the beautiful pain witcha
Like a tattoo of a framed picture
Of a dead homie, maybe a family member
I got some gambling
the, back of a van, with cuffs on my hands
Six secret service men in black, one nigga in tan
Who's driving? For three hours, we've been riding
.jpg/300px-Secret_Service_(Band).jpg "Secret Service Band")
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