We assemble, and the doors don't close,
Bridges are structured for the echelon to pass,
Cannons don't fire, and guns don't raise,
Strange heat kisses the beaten path.
Women sit around and see the systems shell,
Broken parts kicked around dirt and debris,
Stallions charge and stand so still.
When we're beaten up
We're not staying down,
We're getting high,
We're getting low…
String together these shabby sentences,
Breathe out these words in blue…
Some electric fences persuade us to drink,
Where voices blink, we often sink,
Into these sounds for grey.
Aftermath shifts, this war has no beginning
It's likely to see no end,
Once we are dead the echoes return,
And these bodies bury us alive.
Drunken wounds lick swollen tongues,
We must protect our queen,
We honor and serve,
We would do the unheard,
And equip our heads,
We may think instead.
When we're knocked out,
We're staying in,
We're beating blacks,
Because we are white.
What sense can this make,
How much sense does it take?
I hear the voices
So I must be crazy,
But maybe it is because I am in love.
Maybe it's because I can see a beautiful world,
That my head isn't here.
But who needs heads,
When hearts are near?
It's my castle for your Queen.
What soon I shall despair,
I will write these words by ink and blood
And skin and dried up prayers,
I will write music to the beat of the gun,
I will whisper words that curl like your hair,
I will be human,
I will be god,
And maybe one day we will all begin to care.
Where are we?
Where brown is black
And peach is pale,
Where color stops you from being human.
Can we just find a map…
This chess board has become too big.