These lyrics were written by kokonda dub and Greenlandic theatre performer and poet Jessie Kleeman. Lyrically it’s a meeting of indigenous mythology and radical street politics. It reflects dub wisdom and inspiration from Bobby Marshall, Ani, Not4prophet and jessie. Dub mediation by Prasad Bidaye led us to Christiane D and Soy Sos of Soma Mestizo who blessed us with a beautiful dub mystical interpretation.


i am a seal woman
but afterwards i become an eagle
with wings and feathers of the suns many colours
in my song i call for the human beings
time for evolution
time for revolution
out of the darkness
comes a light
out of the ashes of the fire
we create the things we desire
indigenous revolution
still searching for solutions
and within the revolution we create another
hope is my guiding light
even the butterflies live in the artic

Photo by mapuchedub

One of the most incredible live performances we have ever witnessed came from Ricanstruction. Not4Prophet of Ricanstructian wrote these words for us. It clearly expresses so much about what we feel about indigenous revolution. These are the complete lyrics for the edited mix found on IR2 and IR3 vinyl.


born in the bottom of sodom another sling
shot dropped in the rot and forgot blessed as a have
not beat by the street bittersweet love isn't lost
just damaged and damned in defeat by above
cost slum seed sacrifice still had ta think twice
rollin' the dice in this life you'll pay a price
of warfare and welfare and shame another
nameless daughter left out of the game angry and
aimless givin' and livin' a lie no question
why berated and hated and high and left to
die still born unadorned with a thorn in our
side entombed in the womb then consumed then
crucified by saviors and graveyards and guns no where to run
but baby just maybe this one could be the one
so follow Assata, I said in recollection
ghetto and god will provide needed protection
outside children dying, politicians lying
cut throat corporation gangland generation
X and King forgotten Huey Newton shot and
arms and evolution love and revolution
born in the horror of Harlem, hell, and a hard
knock life full a strife got a knife behind a pad
locked war at the door ever sure only a stones
throw jesus will cheat us or lead us straight outta death
row prisons and scisms an slums and dying sons
army's of armigideon harder they come
the harder we fall hear the call to one and all
born battered behind prison walls and project halls
no truth for the youth bullet proof no where to turn
bombs bursting and babylon burn we live and learn
they schools for the fools broken tools and broken dreams
gods gangsters and government rules and what it seems
is fire this time and if not maybe the next chance
riots and revolution no time for romance
follow Assata, I said a new direction
ghetto and god will provide the resurrection...
outside youth uprising, soldiers strategizing
police in positions, radical religions
confrontation camps and flowers for Fred Hampton
arms and evolution, love and revolution..
cara cuerpo corazon en la cuna de babylon
amor es un conspiracion y tu y yo revolucion..

GALDINO (lyrics)

These are the complete lyrics for the track Galdino. The remix by Sun -J (adf)found on this site features an edited and re arranged version of these lyrics which were written by kokonda dub after attending the trial of Galdinos murderers in Brasilia..

This dub is for Galdino
I am standing on the steps of the courthouse in Brasilia. Almost mockingly is a large banner on a
fence that says “Land and Justice for Indigenous People” Indigenous people from around Brasil have gathered here for the trial of four of the wealthy youth accused of the murder of a Patoxi Indian, Galdino in 1997. Galdino was in Brasilia at that time for an indigenous meeting. Unable to find lodging he was asleep on a sidewalk when the youth poured gasoline on the sleeping Galdino and lit him on fire. He died from burns to 90% of is body. As it happened just as I arrived the coroners photos of Galdino’s burnt body are being shown to his family. All around me indigenous people are crying as they see the photos for the first time.

One of the many indigenous youth present at the trial approaches me. Even though his face is painted red and he is wearing a headdress of vibrant blue feathers it’s the sense of quiet but very strong determination that he exudes that really catches my attention. He says I know you want to understand what’s happening here you can take a look at these. He hands me the photos of Galdino horribly burnt corpses. Words can’t describe how horrifying a sight it is.

Yet the defence of the youth is that it was just a joke. Among some of their utterances they thought it was just a homeless person. They were setting on fire. The children of judges and wealthy families of Brasil’s capital the four youth have been in special cells till the time of the trial. In contrast to the
tiny cramped dirty cells with cold showers and no amenities that other inmates are forced to live in the four youth share on extra large cell. With a colour TV, weights, hot showers, desks, special lights and a window without bars to let sunlight in.

Photo by Mapuchedub

During the trial the mother of one of the accused leaves the courthouse weeping. A journalist comments on this to Galdinos mother Minervina. I am perturbed by the tone of the question suddenly it as if the accused are suddenly the victims.

However Mirnervina replies in a defiant manner "I want her to cry, compared to what I have suffered she hasn’t suffered anything". She can still see her children. I will never see my son again. The stereotype of indigenous people being oh so ready to forgive and forget receives a body blow at this moment.

The sentence is handed down. The accused are given a fourteen-year sentence out of a twenty-year maximum but the fact is they could be released in three years time.

A few days later I’m in the city of Sao Luis in another state. It has really struck me that when I talk to Brasilians about the trial everyone is horrified and very sympathetic to the family of Galdino. I also notice not one person I talk with mentions the deeper issue of the right of indigenous people to land.

Yet of all interactions the one that stuck most in my mind was the response of a middle-aged travel agent. When I mentioned that I was in Brasilia for the trial the man stopped what he was doing and took off his glasses. Suddenly I notice a very far away look in his eyes. He said I don’t believe prison solves anything in fact I believe people leave worse than when they came in, but I can’t agree with that sentence. Can you imagine if it had been the other way around and a Patoxi burnt one of these rich kids to death; they would get the maximum twenty years; that’s if they even managed to stay
alive till the time of the trial. You know I was told that there is a man who was serving a five-year jail sentence alongside hardened criminals because one day he was poor and starving and he killed a turtle for something to eat. I believe in protecting the turtles but five years in prison… We both stop and pause. He looks at me with the far away look still in his eyes and says this makes me think about questions of justice.