Yellow Brick Road

The whisper in the winds is in a minor key
Singing your songs of freedom loss and grief
They say it's in my voice
It's really in your hands
How many times must you get up and take fuckin' stand

Your nails are filled with dirt
While mine are bitten clean
We carry your culture surreptitiously hidden in between
The line so thin yet distinguished in real time
Separates me from your body, your rights and your mind

When do you get to rest?
(When do you get to rest)
When do you get to teach?
(When do you get to teach?)
When will your spirit truly be recognised and acknowledged
You are the meek
(You are the meek, meek, meek)

The colour of your spirit moves beyond black and white
The colour of your spirit separates wrong from right
You lead the way and your voices resound
In you the dalit and Muslim will find themselves found

Your voice lends a resonance, a protection for our hearts
That there is some kind of way, that there is some kind of path
It is not the yellow brick road they paved and bright
Toto is in Africa and Wicked Witch cyclone stole the night
(Stole the night)

The Wicked Witch does not rest
Her broom in a holster strapped to her chest
She sings a sweet song that you long to hear
But her crooked nails bloody red are clawing at the fear

The fear, the hate, the unrest
The ego that rules (that rules, that rules) all the rest
A love that's gone
Buried so far deep
I fear the worms feast and it festers in our sleep

It's festering in our sleep and it's festering in our mind
A love so far gone can we really even find
It ever again and my skins growing thin

My skins growing thin

I don't see how and I refuse to see why
For all the years and years and years your bombs dropped from the sky
I've tried wipe the dirt off my face
Washing, wearing and bleaching it all away
There is but one lesson we tell it to the kids everyday
But then they go and turn 18 and you come around
And blow it all away
Thanks

"Democracy Now" yeah that's a joke
Trumps your president
Fuck your electoral colleges
Let em go up in smoke
There's your second amendment
Feel free to use it
Black, white, yellow and blue
Just enough of this fuckin' bullshit
I tried to make my words pretty but all I can hear
Is "I can't breathe mama"
Mama please
I get mad at my mum and dad for really not being straight
That's our privilege right there
No mention of the hate

Everyday you put in work
Everyday you put in time
To understand that this experience is important
Even though its not mine

The colour of your spirit moves beyond black and white
The colour of your spirit separates wrong from right