Sweet Indian maiden, since first I met you, I can't forget you, Cherokee sweetheart. Child of the prairie, your love keeps calling, My heart enthralling, Cherokee. Dreams of summertime, of lover time gone by, Throng my memory so tenderly, and sigh. My

Let not another child be slain Let not another search be made in vain Jah forgive us for forgetting So badly that not many can see you In the name of, and by the power of The holy spirit May we invoke your intercession for The children of England Some of

Combat baby come back Combat baby come back baby Said it all before They try to kick it, their feet fall asleep Fight off the lethargy Don't go quietly Combat baby Said you would never give up easy Every mighty mild seventies child

Oh child, oh child And I know that I can't pretend that I haven't had my regret From the memories that I've kept, to the history I forget Oh, my father before he left Oh, there's one thing I wish he said "Oh child, just do what you love, 'cause you won't

All right, okay As long as it's funky We'll make it funky for you now I'm a child of the ah, the 87 ah From the streets; get on a beat and go ah I could break it down like whatever ya ah On some K-R-S be-here-forever-type, uh

You're always on my mind And I never minded being on my own Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home To be where you are But even closer to you, you seem so very far And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing And I hope it gets to you on

Treated walls care for me When crossings call out one of three Only child take good care I wouldn't like you playing, falling there

Black woman and child, yeh yeh yeah For you I really have so much love Dollar bills and coins will fade away They could never make I so proud Who what, The Black nation Ohh woh woh, oh woh woh From di day mi born mi did dun know sey

You'll be a hard luck woman Baby, 'till you find your man I keep telling you hard luck woman You ain't a hard luck woman Rags, the sailor's only daughter A child of the water Too proud to be a queen Rags, I really love ya I can't forget about ya

Everybody knows I'm here Well, you know I'm the hoochie-coochie man Everybody knows I'm here Don't you know I'm here The gypsy woman told my mother Before I was born I got a boy-child's comin' He's gonna be a son-of-a-gun He's gonna make pretty women's