We are the future Afropologists finding
Sanctuary in the meditation of sound waves
A naming ceremony
A continuous passage, just right of the Milky Way.
Says our rebel teachers of tomorrow
Children are the new Gods.
Recorders of bees
Protectors of flower nectar
And rhinoceros horn
Opposite of extinction
Indigenous resurgence
An anthem of laughter replaces hymns.
Our collective imagination bound inside
Levitated books. All medicine is pulled from
The gritty soil of our backyards
As well as the engines of
Our flying, cosmic cars.
Rhythm rains dreams from our pores.
In the specs of our speaker box limbs
We become
Freedom of speech
We become the music
We eat, love.
Movement becomes the language of the fantastic
Particles in unison, proper agile aliens of funk
An amplituhedron leading us back to the jewel
An evolution of humanity
Forward is the ability to push back
Boundaries invisible
Emancipation of labels & gravity
Letting go our only way
Of figuring out which planets become our
Changing universe, our compass facing home.
Civilian travel cannot
Accommodate intentional
Genius traveling at the speed of light.
It will not be easy carrying sound systems
Inside your womb. Birth is noisy via satellite.
Still
Remain still
Fly beyond limits
Land
Push
The Crystal City is Alive
Is Alpha
Is close
If you unplug just enough
To actually
Feel
Your fingers the iconography of keys
Future will never become
A thing
Of
The
Past.
The iridium night sky blurs
Into ocean's shy, defiant reflection
We become days, hours, undefinable
Creators want only
To be free to create
Arkestra of Ra
Octavia Past Present
Grand Master Delaney
Architect of sound, Cecil
A Simone Solar Powered
Gun.
Infinity Icons.
Beautiful bodies of clocks
Fearless bodies of work
Some of us preserve our art
Like southern peaches in grandmothers mason jars.
When opened, history, pours out.
Some of us hide our codes inside our locs
Every 25 hours
No longer confined to hands or hunger
Or race, or gender.
Sleep occurs, when we find it necessary
Love is not a metaphor, but the way we always say
Hello and goodbye
We have finally become
A people.
People Video (MV)
The Beneficiaries - People Lyrics
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We are the future Afropologists finding
Sanctuary in the meditation of sound waves
A naming ceremony
A continuous passage, just right of the Milky Way.
Says our rebel teachers of tomorrow
Children are the new Gods.
Recorders of bees
Protectors of flower nectar
And rhinoceros horn
Opposite of extinction
Indigenous resurgence
An anthem of laughter replaces hymns.
Our collective imagination bound inside
Levitated books. All medicine is pulled from
The gritty soil of our backyards
As well as the engines of
Our flying, cosmic cars.
Rhythm rains dreams from our pores.
In the specs of our speaker box limbs
We become
Freedom of speech
We become the music
We eat, love.
Movement becomes the language of the fantastic
Particles in unison, proper agile aliens of funk
An amplituhedron leading us back to the jewel
An evolution of humanity
Forward is the ability to push back
Boundaries invisible
Emancipation of labels & gravity
Letting go our only way
Of figuring out which planets become our
Changing universe, our compass facing home.
Civilian travel cannot
Accommodate intentional
Genius traveling at the speed of light.
It will not be easy carrying sound systems
Inside your womb. Birth is noisy via satellite.
Still
Remain still
Fly beyond limits
Land
Push
The Crystal City is Alive
Is Alpha
Is close
If you unplug just enough
To actually
Feel
Your fingers the iconography of keys
Future will never become
A thing
Of
The
Past.
The iridium night sky blurs
Into ocean's shy, defiant reflection
We become days, hours, undefinable
Creators want only
To be free to create
Arkestra of Ra
Octavia Past Present
Grand Master Delaney
Architect of sound, Cecil
A Simone Solar Powered
Gun.
Infinity Icons.
Beautiful bodies of clocks
Fearless bodies of work
Some of us preserve our art
Like southern peaches in grandmothers mason jars.
When opened, history, pours out.
Some of us hide our codes inside our locs
Every 25 hours
No longer confined to hands or hunger
Or race, or gender.
Sleep occurs, when we find it necessary
Love is not a metaphor, but the way we always say
Hello and goodbye
We have finally become
A people.
Sanctuary in the meditation of sound waves
A naming ceremony
A continuous passage, just right of the Milky Way.
Says our rebel teachers of tomorrow
Children are the new Gods.
Recorders of bees
Protectors of flower nectar
And rhinoceros horn
Opposite of extinction
Indigenous resurgence
An anthem of laughter replaces hymns.
Our collective imagination bound inside
Levitated books. All medicine is pulled from
The gritty soil of our backyards
As well as the engines of
Our flying, cosmic cars.
Rhythm rains dreams from our pores.
In the specs of our speaker box limbs
We become
Freedom of speech
We become the music
We eat, love.
Movement becomes the language of the fantastic
Particles in unison, proper agile aliens of funk
An amplituhedron leading us back to the jewel
An evolution of humanity
Forward is the ability to push back
Boundaries invisible
Emancipation of labels & gravity
Letting go our only way
Of figuring out which planets become our
Changing universe, our compass facing home.
Civilian travel cannot
Accommodate intentional
Genius traveling at the speed of light.
It will not be easy carrying sound systems
Inside your womb. Birth is noisy via satellite.
Still
Remain still
Fly beyond limits
Land
Push
The Crystal City is Alive
Is Alpha
Is close
If you unplug just enough
To actually
Feel
Your fingers the iconography of keys
Future will never become
A thing
Of
The
Past.
The iridium night sky blurs
Into ocean's shy, defiant reflection
We become days, hours, undefinable
Creators want only
To be free to create
Arkestra of Ra
Octavia Past Present
Grand Master Delaney
Architect of sound, Cecil
A Simone Solar Powered
Gun.
Infinity Icons.
Beautiful bodies of clocks
Fearless bodies of work
Some of us preserve our art
Like southern peaches in grandmothers mason jars.
When opened, history, pours out.
Some of us hide our codes inside our locs
Every 25 hours
No longer confined to hands or hunger
Or race, or gender.
Sleep occurs, when we find it necessary
Love is not a metaphor, but the way we always say
Hello and goodbye
We have finally become
A people.
Writer: Eddie Fowlkes, Jessica Care Moore
Copyright: Lyrics © EPM MUSIC USA LLC, Missing Link Music
Copyright: Lyrics © EPM MUSIC USA LLC, Missing Link Music