Lucky ft. Ijeoma

On a terrace street with kids running the terror. Midnight feasts of donuts and burning rubber. And it’s a feast for the whole street. Eau Rouge on my corner. Watch them warm up the tires for ram-raids to order. Flashing lights, spotlight, scatter cars scatter people. Go home baby is tired and we just want to sleep. But we’re OK. Yeah we’re OK. Everybody says that we’re lucky.

On her own three kids making bold decisions. Move country to country, creating family divisions to find stable ground. A terraced street, a foundation to build on but we’re lost not found, no winners in our situation. Runaway runaway, scatter life scatter people. People tired, people tire of the same situation. But we’re OK. Everybody says that we’re lucky. Everybody says it could be worse.

Out of my window, the city don’t sleep I moved country to country to get my piece/peace. I’ve got my own little unit, my own family and the distance don’t bother me. Runaway. Different life, different people so don’t be surprised if history repeats. But we’re OK, I made my own luck. Yes, I’m lucky.