Sacred fruit. That witch nurtures the collective through earth, my simileum webs were all connected. Can't you see? Like the birds and the bees and even the trees that which extend like binge bites within the mind I'm within in YouTube. Shall see. Ah, that's right. They got you looking. Not with your eye, but with your eyes. I need you to see. That the time is not to be connected to the ancestors and fly high in the sky and they'll be just be free. But it is I who remember my ancestors cries because it is them who lived through me. Tucked away in my DNA, oh how ashamed they must be when some of us look away. For giving the beains the rapines, the slice and indyce and owing the hangings. Strange fruit, ain't that what Billy Holiday said or something like that distracted by the white man's game. It's all the same, dividing conker, can't you see? But remember once upon a time it was swing low. Sweet chariot coming for to carry me on. Sweet chariot coming for to carry me on.