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I found the bushes with little effort, not looking to see if I had been noticed or followed, and used all my strength to open the manhole. I levered myself down and felt strong hands catch my hips. An elderly Ambossan man was holding a torch and smiling. Oh, all these thoughts were whirring around in my brain as I manically raked under the ground beneath my sleeping pallet and brought up a cloth pouch filled with a few hundred cowrie-pounds. I had managed to pilfer a shell here and there during nearly two decades of shopping for Bwana and his family.
They all looked up and studied me a bit too closely. Now my number had just been called and after twelve painfully long years on the waiting list I was being given the chance to escape. The message had come via my secret email account, Please! @ohtakemehomelord.com, a free server set up by the not-for-profit Abolitionists’ Co-op and protected by AntiMasterGuard . I prayed I could trust it, but nothing was infallible.
About Take Me Home Oh Lord Song
We’re encouraged to breed merely to increase the workforce and, like I said, my five were sold on. Frank was the father of the last three. As I gave birth to each child it was immediately taken out of my arms and into the hands of a wet nurse. I didn’t discover their sex and I never saw them again. Frank had been my one true beau for many years. He was such a gentle soul, but his mistress, Madama Subria, while having one of her sweaty menopausal turns, accused him of feeling her up and reported him to her husband in hysterics.
I was one of the Stolen Children. So, in between Europa and the plantations of West Japan is this country in the tropics, the world’s greatest imperial power, the United Kingdom of Great Ambossa & the Canary Islands . It’s part of the continent of the mainland of Aphrika, which lies just over the Ambossan Channel to our right, which we also know as the Sunny Continent, of course, on account of it being so bloody hot here. The avenues have been swept smooth of yesterday’s sandstorm, and the hawkers selling takeaways - grilled corn on the cob, roasted chestnuts, fried plantain and little packets of fu-fu wrapped in leaves - have been sent packing. Gaana is the one-stop solution for all your music needs.
"Take Me Home" lyrics
We had a few at our compound, but in our case dear Madama Comfort made them pay for their birthright. Not a drop of Aphrikan blood in me. Internet banking makes revenge more sophisticated, you know. It was typical of the Slave Escape Transport System , which we in the know cynically nicknamed The Set-Back Service.
No slaves were allowed out unaccompanied at night, although there were some freed slaves in the city. The Bwana in question is Chief Abimbola Abayomi Akobundu Akinlabi Ajibade III, whose company is in the top 10 of the Fortune 500 list. Camel-drawn carriages driven by men in kente-cloth livery deliver stush party guests to our neighbouring compounds.
Torgeir Waldemar - Take Me Home Lyrics
They saved up all year for their kids to go on a giraffe or elephant ride or a merry-go-round. Sometimes they even helped us escape. Occasionally some of them shot daggers at us whytes or called out insults, clearly resentful at us for taking their jobs. A split second later I was running. If someone stopped me, so be it. I ran to the station, which had stood boarded up and derelict for so long.
It was how we slaves engaged in many a romantic tryst, myself included, although I was currently single, which thankfully meant I had no one to leave behind. I still held on to the concept of monogamy, even though the Ambossans ridiculed it as uneconomical and selfish when women outnumbered men in this society. Genius is the ultimate source of music knowledge, created by scholars like you who share facts and insight about the songs and artists they love. I didn’t move and neither did he.
More lyrics from the album
At first I thought she was sorry for Frank, then it dawned on me that she was brimming with self-pity. You see, we were generally invisible to the Ambossans - something we cultivated, to blend into our surroundings, lessening the chance of being singled out. I can see how they have hardened their hearts to our humanity. They convince themselves that we do not feel as they do, so that they, of course, do not have to feel for us. It’s very convenient and lucrative for them, isn’t it. I wish my heart would ice over like that.
But how I longed for those grey skies, the constant drizzle, the harsh wind slapping my ears. How I longed for my warm winter woollies and wellington boots. How I longed for Mum’s cheese-and-pickle sandwiches and hot minestrone broth. How I longed for a house of my own. How I longed for Sunder Land, the far northern district whence I was taken. Sunder Land, where my tribe were quiet farming people.
I always hoped I would need them one day. For bribes, for food, as a relocation allowance when, if, I mean when I reached Europa. I quietly shut the door and looked around. I needed to take some food for the journey but I couldn’t risk going back to the main house. I crept up the garden and snuck through a spot in the bushes that led to a back alley.
Some were agents for West Japanese planters, there to buy new stock. Others were owners of the slave ships, there to sell off newly arrived stock. But we can’t always have what we want, can we. In fact some of us never get what we want, ever.
The men wear flamboyant kaftans and their glamorously fat women try to outdo each other in extravagant head wraps of peacock or leopard prints which are tied up into massive bows. New Order took the title for "Blue Monday" from an illustration, which read "Goodbye Blue Monday," in the Kurt Vonnegut book Breakfast Of Champions. The image referred to the invention of the washing machine improving housewives' lives. The Ambossans called Europa the Dark Continent, on account of the skies always being overcast.
This song is about mental illness and those who suffer from it. The lyrics to the song made a lot of sense once I learned this. "I've been a prisoner all my life" is the confinement which the illness imposes on those who are ill.
And nostalgia would not get me to the station on time. I flew out of Bwana’s office and rushed across the compound, across the green lawn studded with huge cacti which looked like men with their arms raised to the sky. I entered the hut which I shared with four of my female “colleagues”, knowing they would be busy elsewhere in the house. Even when it seemed that every job had been completed, Madama Comfort, Bwana’s imperious No 1 wife, demanded we all get down on our hands and knees and scrub her cherished marble floor - with soap and a nailbrush.
It was always breaking down because of increased demand from escaping slaves wanting to cadge a ride out of the city, to begin the long journey back to the motherland of our dreams - to Europa. Sure, it was a pipe dream for most of us, but it was one which offered an impossible hope that somewhere out there was a place to which we could return, a home. I have always tried to console myself with the fact that, such was the demand for sugar, the price of a sweet tooth was a toothless smile. Such was the demand for sickly sweet coffee that they ended up with an irregular heart beat, osteoporosis and withdrawal headaches.
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