So here's a story about a man
Who crossed the sea through foreign lands
To spread the rhythm with his hands
His shoes still full of white sand
He's passed poor Walter in the good times
His words cut through the rough sky He started playing sad and wild
The audience was passing wild My
Jamaican dream
Higher than
I've ever been
Light
as cotton's skin
Nothing is now as it seems My Jamaican dream
Color turned right off the screen An ever-changing scene
Nothing is now as it seems
Through this hurtful near and far He has become a rising star
Now we sit at side by He's someplace from a passing eye
Because he touched us with a screw He left his market stamp to move
Sideways for him to chew Cigar,
guitar and sandy shoes
My
Jamaican dream Higher than I've ever been
Light
as carpet's sand Nothing is now as it seems
My
Jamaican dream Color turned right off the screen
An ever-changing scene Nothing is now as it seems
My Jamaican dream
Higher than I've ever been
Light as carpet's sand
Nothing is now as it seems