Run the wind

Grandma said, "Son, keep walking,
Even when the road feels hard to read." I hear it now,
In the river's bend, a stolen name can live again.
Cut the chain, cut the chain, let my people breathe again.
Cut the chain, cut the chain, we were born to run the wind,
Run the wind.
Market men smile with a broken tooth,
Counting my change in the midday heat.
Little kids laugh by the riverbank,
Bare feet flying past the cane and reeds.
I hear it now, in the drum's deep call,