There was a band Called the Pots&Pans They made this noise That people couldn't stand And when they toured All across the land The people said "no, no, no"

The people said "no, no, no" But the drummer said "yes, yes, yes — this tour is a test"

I will dress your eyelids With dimes upon your eyes Lay you close to water Green your grave will rise

Hear you now the captain Heed his sorrowed cry The weight upon your eyelids Is dimes laid on your eyes

The thrill is gone The thrill is gone I can see it in your eyes I can hear it in your sighs Feel your touch and realize The thrill is gone

This is the end So why pretend And let it linger on? The thrill is gone The thrill is gone

Can I kick it? To all the people who can Quest like A Tribe does Before this, did you really know what live was? Comprehend to the track, for it's why cuz Gettin' measures on the tip of the vibers Rock and roll to the beat of the funk fuzz Wipe your feet really good on the rhythm rug If you feel the urge to freak, do the jitterbug Come and spread your arms if you really need a hug Afrocentric living is a big shrug A life filled with HORN, that's what I love A lower plateau is what we're above If you diss us, we won't even think of Will Nipper the doggy give a big shove? This rhythm really fits like a snug glove Like a box of positives is a plus, love As the Tribe flies high like a dove

Can I kick it? To my Tribe that flows in layers Right now Phife is a poem sayer At times I'm a studio conveyor Mr. Dinkins, would you please be my mayor? You'll be doing us a really big favor Boy this track really has a lot of flavor When it comes to rhythms, Quest is your savior Follow us for the funky behavior Make a note on the rhythm we gave ya Feel free, drop your pants, check your hair Do you like the garments that we wear? I instruct you to be the obeyer A rhythm recipe that you'll savor Doesn't matter if you're minor or major Yes, the Tribe of the game, rhythm player As you inhale like a breath of fresh air

their custom concern for the people build up the monuments and steeples to wear out our eyes

message read on the bathroom wall said "i don't feel at all like i fall" and we're losing all touch, losing all touch building a desert

If there's one thing that I can't explain Is why the world has to have so much pain With all the ways of communicating We can't get in touch with who we're hating

I hear it every day on the radio Somebody shoots some guy he don't even know Airplanes falling out of the sky A baby is born and another one dies Highways filled with refugees Doctors finding out about disease With all this uptight pushing and shoving That keeps us away from who we're loving