Awr ar ôl Awr

07/17/2025

Codi yn y bore a dwin teimlon dda
neithiwr o nin canu ar y mic centa
y system wedi stacio fel mynyddoed mawr
dwfn yw swn y bas oedd yn ysgwyd y llawr

O nin meddwl bo nin mynd am beint tawel yn y pub
Ar muned nesaaf o nin skankio i y dub
Ar curiad syn taro Man goro bod y gore
Dewch yn eich hole, gwrando tan y bore

ysbryd wedi codi a fy enaid di yn llawn
Dirgrynu fel demaeargryn syn neud popeth yn iawn
Yeah oh man neud popeth yn iawn
Ar y roots rock reggae awr ar ol awr
tara y rhuo yn curo fel y cawr
awr ar ol awr
Ar y one drop rhythm

Dim on un sŵn syn tanio fflamau gobaith
canu yn yr heniaith
di magu yn y mamiaith
Galw am y chwyldro
Dyma yw fy araith
a ni syn neud y gwaith
dilyn y miwisig fel taith

tonau chwyldroadol mewn pentrefi bach
ble maer awen yn yr awel ag yr awyr yn iach
Ar y dub plate hefo mic a black cap
rholiwch y tâp mar flow yn rhedeg fel tap

fflamau botanegol
Nes ma llygaid ni yn goch
Creu vibes hanesyddol
syn tanio yn y boch
A ni sydd yn y canol
Siwr yn hawddu cael ein canmol
Da nin hollol annibynol
ysbrydoliaeth yn ddigonol

Ar y champion sound
Y miwsig o Jamaica
Sy'n torri trwy y ffinau
Fel y Wailers o Walia!

Wake up in the morning and I'm feeling good
Last night we were singing on the mic centre
The system stacked like great mountains
Deep is the bass sound that was shaking the floor

We thought we were just going for a quiet pint in the pub
The next minute we were skanking to the dub
To the beat that hits — got to be the best
Come to your senses, listen until morning"

The spirit has risen and my soul is full
Vibrating like an earthquake that makes everything right
Yeah, oh man, makes everything right
On the roots rock reggae, hour after hour
The beat roaring and pounding like a giant
Hour after hour
On the one drop rhythm

Only one sound that lights flames of hope
Singing in the old language
Raised in the mother tongue
Calling for the revolution
This is my speech
And we are the ones doing the work
Following the music like a journey

Revolutionary waves in small villages
Where the muse is in the breeze and the air is clean
On the dub plate with a mic and a black cap
Roll the tape — the flow runs like a tap

Botanical flames
Until our eyes are red
Creating historical vibes
That ignite in the cheek
And we are at the center
Sure to deserve our praise
Yeah, we are totally independent
Inspiration in abundance"

On the champion sound
The music from Jamaica
That breaks through the borders
Like the Wailers from Wales!