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letra de baby it'll be... - a poet nomad ali

there was a brother and sister, the sister was older
lived in an orphan home with n0body to hold ’em
dropped off on the side of the road with both ’em
standing in the cold, holdin him, she had pnuemonia
hardly old ‘nough he would cry into the night
she hold his heavy head and sing a little something like

baby, it’ll be…
maybe, it’ll be…
baby, it’ll be…alright…
she would sing to him…
baby, it’ll be…
maybe, it’ll be…
baby, it’ll be…
and on the other side

don’t you worry, well that’s what papa always said
one way or another pops, he come home with bread
there was 10 of us…. but it was never that bad
if we were together, plus we always had dad

when the winter was cold, with hard times
he’d smile and say, “baby, it’ll be alright”
he would sing to us
and on the other side

she was up all night cause her grandma couldn’t sleep
it had been days since she had a decent meal to eat
and grandma couldn’t breathe deep her chest was tight
deep into the night you could see the light in that room
and only one lullaby would put her to bed right like

she would sing to her
and on the other side

on the gutter side, where drivebye’s and lights hover side
sirens get brushed aside, cause sargents don’t come inside
and citizens don’t abide, and cars stay lowridin’
two young men who grew up inside it, that was their only crime
stop listening to girlfriends, mothers, and churches
their was this tiny voice inside them urging

it would sing to them
and on the other side

no one can say different cause they just don’t know
in the summertime when the convertibles got that glow
you just finished school and the systems up
gl-sses on, windows down, like you just don’t give a f-ck
and you headed to the beach and you out of the rut
you forget all your troubles, even if your life sucks like

sing it louder
and on the other side

on a lighter note, you spot her there at the bar
but something not looking right with this pretty young star
yeah, she’s blaze, and she fine as h-ll
but there’s a certain gaze on in her stare, she don’t feel well
don’t feel swell, you wanna buy her a drink and say
“baby, it’s gonna be alright”

and on the other side

how did they survive that holocaust, a million bodies tossed
on top of each other, with the courage to run across
how they survive that slavery, humiliation, thhat bravery
no one can tell you ’bout true freedom and how great it’ll be
how did we survive that persecution, treacherous revolution
separation from our homes, genocide and m-ss confusion
how did they climb those mountains, and overcome that doubt and
get outta that poverty, and make something happen, like

that’s what they kept singing
that’s what we keep singing

and it will be alright, cause we’ll make it through
the human will always finds a way to make it through
but then she says, no you don’t understand
i was 5, and i had my little brother in my hands
and our parents left us, and i used to sing to him
“baby, it’s gonna be alright”

and it was alright, he told her, “it’s that funny you mention
that song cause that when my dad used to creep in
late at night, with his dirty clothes and tuck us in, and say”
“baby, it’ll be alright”

they had each other just like luke and ann
except neither one of em believed the other had it that bad
like the notebook, it would bring them tears every time
they would exchange stories trying to revive
their memories, to get back that look in their eyes, like

baby it’ll be…

- a poet nomad ali

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