Native Filmography

• Triads, Yardies & Onion Bhajees (2003)

• Push Button For (2006)

• Fête de la liberté: Du côté de chez Bedos (1998)

• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Ride The Tide - Native
• Backseat Crew - Native
• Wrestling Moves - Native
• Five Year Payoff - Native
• What Are You Dylan In My House - Native
• Hey Mon Hook Me Up 'do - Native
• Shirts And Skins - Native
• Alpacastan - Native
• Ponyboy - Native
• Members List - Native
• Legoland - Native
• Something About Swordsmanship - Native
• Native - Griffin House

Face meets a face, and hand strains the throat.
Vocal chords sway like the waves on a boat.
So write down a lie, and dress it with care,
As slander burns red in your face like a flare.
Gunshots fly, blue bleeds red.
Coroner's breath, rip out the page.
If third times a charm, then why not the fourth?
Let's broadcast these lies from the south to the north!
Hand strains the throat,
Utter the words,
That make you the same,
that make waters rage.
Hand strains the throat,
Utter the words,
That make him the same,
that make waters rage.
Drink the, ivy.
Bitter, envy.
Break the sound with hammers.
Wake the deaf with picures.
Now we pause for silence,

From winter to summer the climates like costumes
We paint them depending n spirit
With calmness we push on revealing the boldness we've disguised blankets of distrust
We sleep through the tension
Take reign and strive
We'll hold you close
Our years grow long; our patience short
Daybreak; the light brings encounter
The arms shake
The trunk stays unbroken
It holds mood and drive
The arms lull, the tree holds
At nightfall the city brings discord
The blood halts
The muscles keep motion
With motive we surge
The blood flows
The eyes close
Remember the late nights?

From basement to basement attention's neglected.
Thoughts of livings based solely on incomes from hunting our interest are discussed.
All for one agreed cause, nothing can change the former.
Winds bring new tidings, old words are stale.
Voice brings new versions of concepts turned promise.
(Mind brings new consequences, we stand uncompromised)
We're blind to singing songs; we're deaf to sarcastic tongues.
Handshakes that were once warm are covered with gloves of fog.
Our thoughts and miles erased by the ink of a pen.
Let's buy stock in ourselves it's thriving.
Branches and footsteps blown over by wind from a lung.

The August sun's heat held closely
We set out with minds aligned with time
Our bridges were fresh and sturdy
With kinship our story has written itself
September brought leaves and distance
we set out with arms conjoined like chains
When one fell the motion kept forward
Blank chapters now filled with verses
October we broke all our verses for conflict
A conflict that steals the heart from the mind
We branch out like birds that have fled from the nest
A week's miles has power to destroy a bond
November brought cold air but wheels kept moving
Another concrete trail with lines moving west
Arrival is late but in time for learning
A new bright light breaks out from the fog
Months fly by without much conversing
Our mindsets assured in our words
July's sun brought new warmth to shoulders
One late night has mended our wounds
Seasons change with hours
Climates are brave in towns
Voices ring like church bells
Our words stand with time
In winter our arms form new links made strong
Blank chapters now filled with verse
These verses show readers the pictures of history

With friends, come contracts.
This fame is boughten.
Patrons are unripe, a year's what keeps them.
The trees with same rings, grin with their limbs.
Approval, like satire, the roots are unread.
The trees, with same rings, are turning their heads.
Hand me statistics! (to keep my worth warm)
Make me a medal (concocted with falseness)
It's building the firmness.
Action! Enactment!
Can't fool the wise, this crowd is transparent.
Sharp on, the outside.

These lips are chapped, distorted words.
Excuses, oh my, my conscious!
Acceptance. My sorrow's their humor.
This face, that face.
The paint has gone dry but I'll still paint.
This blank canvas wins the spotlight.
Buy the attention, sell disposition.
How can't you see, that there is a curb?

To write with eyes painting a picture.
Our minds are tapped with finest of wires.
Our time becomes a clone of the public.
A match erases the last of fingerprints.
In cellars we're printing while ears laced with carbon watch closely.
Our minds are tied tightly with strings held like kites.
No rescue is seen without loss of comfort.
Wind chimes warn us of northern intruders.
We can't see land that is lost in the distance.
Wars are raging in pastures beside us.
Doorways that were once left open are closed.
Rise, take thanks for creation.
We side with those who are humble.
Nights where handshakes were fluent,
With knives we'll study the blueprints.
Rise, take thanks for creation.
We'll side with those who are humble.
We'll hide our knives in cloaks made out of smirks.
We plagiarize thinking.
Rise, take bows for conception.
They'll side with those unassuming.
We'll breathe the air of another one's lungs.
We'll hinder the growing.
Words twined with spite have surfaced despite grave endeavor.
Windows give insight to our hope, not what tongues deliver.
Nights spend riding behind the wheel of travels.

That winning smile, there’s nothing to hide.
Going down, but sweeter coming up.
Look at those eyes! Those ears! that mouth!
If third times a charm,

Wake up! Our limbs are shaking in face of a probability.
You arms reaching through miles to rest the unrest, to quell the darkness.
Wake up! Our hands are building a bridge of complete immunity.
Our words breaking through blindness to change the face of the word of friendship.
Last night I wrote a new fable based on the vigor of lions.
Last night I ate at the table and listened to stories of courage.
We strive to seem impassive but this newscast has shaken.
Arms stretch for miles and miles.
Our blood has been thin and this day is cutting.
Our thoughts reach out like a phone line.
Although hours break us we still bleed the same.
Books soaked with the words describing the nights that we rewrote time.
Drives where death was cheated, roads turn to thoughts, we hold them.

School days augmented by visits from public.
Week days enhanced by surrounding bodies of kinship.
Sunday morning awoke the sun, bright bedrooms and kitchens.
Scents fade with growing years, pictures stained on my eyelids.
Late at night, we lie awake to talk of heroes and distance.
When alone and minutes drag, I'll rest assured we'll walk again.
While years run and dry up I'll swim in days of sun where legs walk on trails.
We'll explore, we'll break thoughts of boundaries.
The years slow and run out, we grasp for a last night where days are remembered.
We'll let go, we'll take on the distance.
Our distance has broken.
Ruins collected like trinkets will hang calmly from mantles.
Like tombstones they'll sing.
Mourn for those who move on and leave us behind.
We're past lives, we're memories, we're ghosts.
Wear black for spirits who leave here and move to new hives.

This glass is a safe holding my age
Rip off the fake nails and follow the tracks of the deep up ahead
Barley preserved the age of my skin
Pick up your feet and follow the steps of the sheep up ahead
Your mindset is read like a forecast in newsprint
This fiction is your purpose
Existence
Our age group exceeds us: our efforts prestigious
Writing with the lead of legend
Changing all the fact to fiction (Why can't we sing?)
Breathe a night without gray light?
Brag about a sober moment?
Hold a hand with honest intent?
Walk a line with great preciseness?
Remember our thoughts and promises?
Take a pill with honest reasons?
Twelve months waiting for new light of sight, eyes blurring
Pictures giving eyes of insight new context
Artists in lead fight for ink while writers at work smudge the page
Fathers bleed fairly insuring their senescence
Morality

Eleven; folders filled with
paper, green will flood.
Thirteen; coal black nights with
laughter, trusting tongues.
Fifteen; cement ponds and
car rides, paths have crossed.
Nineteen; boxes filled with
IDs, green is lost.
I've been, exchanging, thoughts with, a new wind.
(this is, growing. this is, changing)
This basement confides my end of the rope.
Wave at the cancer, it's hiding in gray smoke.
The red glass spills, and brings forth the ghost.
The gold on this bracelet's as true as its host.
(the ink on this hand's as true as its host.
We're planted, we form together and bloom.
It's green lives, with shades of blue, resign.
We grow up, and then we change,
and then we'll explain, and then we'll change, we die.
Lakes gone dry, basements filled.

I'm a native to this land
Grew up on the same ground
Where my fathers took their stand
I'm a native to this land
I'm a native to your hand
I was made to rest inside them
When I've labored all I can
I'm a native to your hand
And I am with you now, finally
I am with you now, finally
I am with you now
And I will always be
You're a native to this land
You're the only one I know
Who'll ever understand
You're a native to this land
And I am with you now, finally
I am with you now, finally
I am with you now
And I will always be
I'm a native to your love
There was never such a face
As yours I'm dreaming of
I'm a native to your love
You and I walking on
Together hand in hand
In to the setting sun
You and I walking on
And I am with you now, finally
I am with you now, finally
I am with you now