CHIDI THE BRONCO

“Yo, who park this massive metallic blue dinosaur

cross two loading bays? I can’t move the pallet!”

Dem a feeling a man, pushing the road though,

Daddy a rub the carbon inna Bronco.

Cinema be making his life a movie, one show,

Even if he telling them lies the people want more.

Dem a feeling a man, he loving the style,

He pull up to the warehouse and flash them a smile.

From the dust to the spring he making it grand,

Look at the vibe of the sophisticated local man.

Fresh off the plane with a heart full of fire,

Toronto city lights fill the local desire.

Clocking 90 hours where the pallets are stacked,

Lifting up the boxes with his vertebrae cracked.

But he no sen the sweat, he no care for the pain,

He collecting every dollar just to make it rain.

On a big Ford truck, metallic blue paint,

Two yard he driving but he live like a saint.

Straight to the retro theatre when the shift is done,

Popcorn in his hand, now the marathon run.

Man a dance high up on the silver screen,

The wildest western culture that he ever seen.

Now he walking back to work with the Terminator stride,

Aviator shades with a maximum pride.

He tell the supervisor that his name is John Wayne,

And no man inna the building can counter his pain.

Monday he a Matrix soldier in the winter coat,

Wednesday he a captain on a navy boat.

He telling everyone about the time in Peru,

Where the giant rolling boulder almost crashed his crew.

The forklift driver looking with a massive grin,

Wondering how many lives this man he has been in.

He say he saved his cousin from a cyborg wreck,

With a straight serious face, no shaking, no sweat.

The boys in the back row watching him, man shout,

He nuh gah tell another story till the night shift is gone.

He mixing up Lethal Weapon with a bit of Die Hard,

Doing slow-mo rolls across the shipping yard.

His accent is a mixture of the village and the west,

He puffing up his chest saying he’s the best.

He got a plot line running for every day of the week,

A legendary hero every time he speak.

Is he real? Is he fake? Now watch that, nobody care,

When the dub pump the bass the music fill the air.

Pushing up the place where the fiction is the truth,

Reliving every moment of a cinematic youth.

So roll down the window, let the Bronco cruise,

When you’re the main character you never can lose.

Now the Matrix glitching and the lines get blurred,

He forgets the real meaning of a single word.

The bell drum up, the manager shout,

“You must fix this problem out!”

He look at the gauge, he start to sweat and freeze,

He channeling Keanu falling down to his knees.

He screaming Chineke, the pump is alive,

The speed of this belt cannot drop below 55.

The whole warehouse laughing, they holding their side,

They love the crazy wahala of the cinematic pride.

He might be telling lies but he bringing the joy,

The most sophisticated local village boy.

He park across two spaces just to shield the frame,

Dem a watch him in the city, gonna know his name.

From the motherland soaring to the Hollywood dream,

He de living life supreme on the movie screen.

“Dem a feeling a man… yeah man, keep the camera rolling.

Chidi the Bronco — end of scene one. Fade to black.”