Gil Scott-Heron Album

He was groovin'
and that was when he coulda sworn
the room was movin'
But that was only in his mind
He was sailin'
he never really seemed to notice
vision failin'
'cause that was all part of the high
Sweat was pourin'
he couldn't take it
The room was exploding
he might not make it.
Angel Dust Please, children would you listen.
Angel Dust Just ain't where it's at.
Angel Dust You won't remember what you're
missin', but down some dead end streets
there ain't no turnin' back.

They were standin'
everybody in a circle
the whole family
listening to the preacher's words
Sis was cryin'
She alone held all the secrets
'bout his dyin'
tears fallin' to earth
Maybe her fault
He was so trusting
God only knew why
they was dustin'!
Angel Dust Please children would you listen.
Angel Dust Just ain't where it's at.
Angel Dust You won't remember what you're
missin', but down some dead end streets
there ain't no turnin' back.

Pretty pictures in your favorite magazines
span the distance between you and Mr Clean(?)
You can take part in the All-American dream
just fill your house up with a million
products you don't need.

You don't ever have to use them.
Buying is all that's asked of you.
But if it's so Goddamn incredible
you can't believe it's true
it's Madison Avenue

Make it all commercial
there ain't nothin' folks won't buy
New fuel to fire up the monsters of Free Enterprise
Gizmos and gadgets, batteries to make them run
Just give your check up at the first of every month

And don't wake up to the uselessness
'till your whole life is overdue.
'Cause if it's so Goddamn incredible
you can't believe it's true
it's Madison Avenue

They can sell sand to a man livin' in the desert.
They can sell tuna to the chicken of the sea...
You are surrounded and confounded and
dumbfounded by the happenings yes it's true
it's Madison Avenue

[No lyrics]

[No lyrics]

And now it's time
To gather all the things we need to fly
To better days ahead

Just wave goodbye
We've better things to do now, you and I
In better days ahead

Just take my hand
You're one I need to understand
For better days ahead

With you I can stand
As long as you respect me as your man
There's better days ahead
Yes, coming on

Just take my hand
You're the one I need to understand
For better days ahead

With you I can stand
As long as you respect me as your man
There's better days ahead
Yes, coming on

Coming on
Better days ahead
Coming on
For you and me

Here come the mine cars; it'sdamn near dawn.
Another shift of men, some of my friends, comin' on.
Hard to imagine workin' in the mines;
Coal dust in your lungs, on your skin and on your mind.
I've listened to the speeches,
but it occours to me politicians just don't understand;
the thoughts of isolation, ain't no sunshine underground.
It's like workin' in a graveyard three miles down.

Damn near a legend as old as the mines:
things that happen in the pits just don't change with the times.
Work 'till you're exhausted in too little spacwe.
a history of desastrous fears etched on your face.
Somebody signs a paper, ev'ry body thinks it's fine,
but Taft and Hartley ain't done one day in the mines.
You start to stiffen! You heard a crackin' sound!
It's like workin' in a graveyard three miles down.

Well I'm feeling fine
I could've been doing time.
Well, I'm doing fine, thank you,
but I could've been pulling time.

I know a brother man doing time,
and he didn't commit no crime.
So, thank you, I'm doing fine,
cuz I could've been pulling time.

I've been painting a picture of Angola, Louisiana
pictures of deals in back alleys where politicians often hide
But it's much more important to me than Angola, Louisiana
Got a lot to do with justice but more with Gary Tyler's life
I got a letter from his mother (that) said,
"Please! Say somethin' to my son."
Truth is: Angola, Louisiana, you're the one.

I ain't never been nowhere near Angola, Louisiana.
Down in St. Charles Parish where the sun won't go alone.
But injustice is not confined to Angola, Louisiana.
It can walk in your livin' room
as long as it surrounds your home.
I send love to brother Tyler, but after all is said and done;
Truth is: Angola, Louisiana, you're the one.

I can't tell a man not to defend himself,
not at this late stage.
I can't tell a man he got no rights, nowhere,
not in this day and age.
This song may not touch a whole lot of people
persuaded by the truth,
but take a look at what's goin' on, people,
'cause this all could happen to you.

I've been painting a picture of Angola, Louisiana
Down in St. Charles Parish, where the sun won't go alone
But injustice is not confined to Angola, Louisiana
Well, it can be in your living room
Brother Tyler, hold on, be strong, you're not alone!
I got a letter from his mother that said,
"Please, say something to my son!"
Truth is: Angola, Louisiana, you're the one.

[No lyrics]

This is a prayer for everybody
In the world
'Cause I need you and you need me
We need each other

This is a prayer for everybody
In the world
A prayer for you
A prayer for me
A prayer for love and harmony
A prayer for light for all to see
A prayer that someday we'll all be free

'Cause...
There's a lot that's wrong
We must be strong
And not become bitter
If there's a chance
That mankind will profit
Why should we scoff at something new
Or old - if it can make us better?

This is a prayer for everybody
In the world
'Cause without you
And without me
Without love and harmony
Without courage and dignity
What would it mean
To be free?

Instrumental: To Be Free