Dreams of a Distant Journey

[Intro: Navy Blue + Samples]

His name is Sage

And I had a lone Sage who sees through

You're not alone

Yeah

Troublesome, troubled son on the run

These days you never know

My father told me get a gun

Troublesome, troubled son on the run

These days you never know

My father told me get a gun

[Verse]

Way too many European clothes and not enough funds

I been on my own, if Papa was around, it ain't no question who would own a home

Trust, I had to grow quicker than most

Sound definite, definitely heaven sent

Horns blazing, only somе forget the sunken ships

I oftеn reminisce, what spirit guide us calm regret?

Look myself in the mirror, start tearing up as I reflect

I rearrange my meaning

December days, I recollect, I reconnect through dreaming

A distant daze, my journey long, I fix my face to see it

Ronaldinho how I curve the ball, I’m Ziyech from a distance

Roberto Carlos round the problems, Henry with the finish

Winning strong, my Orixás, they often calling wishes

Witches, been scarred by the wicked one, the whispers

Heart burning, see the embers

My spirit been the saddest, most the time I can't remember

Karma from my last life, it ain't a time I can't remember, to live with reason

Treasonous upon meeting

Found truth, here it is in my palm, breathing

I'm living proof

[Chorus]

I got fam in Santiago, I got fam in Tennessee

Child of a Ògún, his spirit walk amongst the trees

Poppa dearest came from Nashville, it's Choctaw in me

It's Choctaw in me

Yeah

I got fam in Santiago, I got fam in Tennessee

Child of a Ògún, his spirit walk amongst the trees

Poppa dearest came from Nashville, it's Choctaw in me

It's Choctaw in me

[Outro: Navy Blue + Martín Prechtel]

Troublesome

Troubled son on the run

So when you praise something

Alright? It lives

When the spirits praise us, we live

But their praise is our life

Their praise is our heartbeat

Their praise is the grass growing

At least I get to live

I never think when it'd die

You'd have to grieve the hell out of it

Because if you don't grieve it, then it never was really alive

It didn't live, it's already dead

And that's what terrifies the hell out of us

If you have two centuries of people that haven't grieved the things that they loved, and they left properly, where does that grief go?