Correction Lyrics A Cancer for the Cure by Enya

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Lyrics

I caress twice a budding flower and it blooms in front of me
My fingers sticky, for to prick is the function of the modern rose;
On how many souls do I hold the mortgage with extortionate leases?
House ‘em and leave em eating Reese’s pieces
The lyric I provide’s a Southside with many a place to live;
Not for the coasting, but for the roasted; the dying and formative
And here I tell my pre-history, before thе riches set in
Back when my fеar of failure cost nowt, and spirit was good for the getting
Back in a London that, for the rich, was free
I was inspired to desire what only liars would say was made for me
I was dumb enough to think they’ll see that I’m pale and rate me fairly still
So I'm dumb enough to appropriate the beat from Jean and Lauryn Hill
Apoplectic at such reflexive invective
And by only my mirror and industry am I protected;
Nobody has a clue about me yet
But I am a world-straddling controversy in the making; I’m set
I’m a star foetal, miles ahead and out of sight
Like Don Cheadle; one of many things behind the sunlight
Ain’t that right Drake? Oh, perpetrate no mistake
I refer to Nick Drake; a type of Drake, but unlike Drake
I kept caressing the flower until it was dead
I went to no funeral, but to the basement instead
Copper dirty, holed up with double-D despair flirting;
At the bottom of the world, I got to work

Chorus
This track is my baby and my baby is the track
I want you to take her and never bring my baby back
This track is my baby and my baby is the track
Oh, to the man, won’t you bring my baby back?

We English, we learn early how to dodge raindrops
Still I was minded with a certain island monkey lifestyle;
And ever since by that fallen window blind I was circ*mcised
I’ve plotting how to rule by the odds, and make my reign drop
First we take Chelsea, Napoli, Fiji, then Seville;
I’ll be eye catching, world dominising all night, pass the advil;
My heart’s gonna eat up every art until it’s blown apart
I’m impure, I say it proudly, for the beauty we truly
And rudely adore can never be made from beauty pure
Such beauty may just be deplored, or be ignored;
What’s for sure it makes that beauty no less, and no more
So many rappers come to sell you rhyming’s body, but mine’s a shadow
For in shadows lurk redeemers who may deepen any shallow
I’m a beaten and undroppable, unstoppable apostle
Peddler of the rare and near-enough impossible; a fair man
I always thought that when you hear your duty’s bell you don’t refuse it
Refute it and find yourself by history rebuked
Though exile would be a choice, I wouldn’t choose it
I’m Elba’d enough; the nation’s got my spirit, can’t afford to lose it

Man, these verses, ain’t they with gold of airy thinness thick like blood?
These mixes of by whom, where and what I was made of:
Middle class mills under working class skin
A heritage that I had to leave, to come back strong enough to win
From the myrrh of knowing all I can do that now bloods me
From the feeling I once had that no one in the world could love me
Been a danger ever since my experimenting with thinking -
Yeah that’s the chamber I load whenever I’m feeling this anger-
My sh*t might smoke more than cess, but I’m incensed
By all I see in duplicity, in oppression and in excess
And you may find a 'word floating down to visit you when you’re flat on your back;
Well then I hope mine are half-resort of many a great comeback. 'Til then, that feeling that bloods me is true; no one could ever
Take it away from me; its air could never turn it in anyway but blue
I see you looking at me, like you can’t believe you believe it;
Got my piece, let me eat it
Love? I got plenty now

What, you thought I’d never rapped before?

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