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Listening to "Strange Fruit," Jeru and Beirut
Trying to listen to Jesus is hard as fake boobs
At times, but stay tuned hear the bread break and grape juice
And Grey Goose Gospel prelude, let it play through
I'm listening to Mr. J. Medeiros and Nicolay
While I'm hearing drips of rain, hit against the window pane
And hits on tapes, Hit Parade, 1968
When it plays, I hear the bullets penetrate MLK
Soul levitates when the plane starts to escalate
Top Gun, Take My Breath Away, it's time to press and play
Drop the needle then step away, hear what's said
Off the record before there's nothing left to say

Listen, listen, listen
Listen, listen, listen

In my room, listening to Sermon, Gershwin
Earth, Wind & Fire, listening to persons I admire
Searching for Higher Learning like Ice Cube on iTunes
Listening to grown men rapping like it's high school
Listening to friends talk, hearing my pen stop
Used to write first, now I try to listen then jot
Listening to pop like Redenbach'
City to the boondocks, can't you hear the games like a jukebox?
Cause you gotta pay to play, and there's no lay-away
Hear a few folks caught in real snares, no 808
Real talk, like vocals going straight to tape
I say it straight and never twice, no fake delay
Listen with the volume down, push the sound back
If every life's a movie all our soundtracks
Sound like sound clash, all our sounds bleeding in
To each other no sound reasoning, stop, breathe again

Listen, listen, listen
Listen, listen, listen

And music is a great way to heal and a safe place to feel
Trapped in this fake world, a gateway to real
It's a great way to heal, a safe place to feel
Trapped in this fake world, a gateway to real
Listening to sounds in a space that's vacant
Profound and deep, underground as basements
And quiet as kept, what I found is sacred
A sage said silence is the sound of patience
Listen
Listen, listen, listen