“America, America Will you come back to me baby? Please don’t run away Don’t let me go!” She dances a slow death tune to the gray souls Flapping beneath the tattered eyelashes Of her midnight skin Cut her and she bleeds red, green, black, white and blue Forever bleeding red the color of her humanity I am bound to her as I am to the Motherland AFRIKKKKAAA!!! Lungs wail for freedom Yet my name is that of an English master Him running through my veins Like jungle drums exploding Into intense dark rhythms inside my heart I slit my wrists with silver stars Pour down the black rage That ignites concrete jungles into flaming masses of rubble Somebody call 911 But they never answer Never answer NEVER ANSWER Mind locked into encrypted messages Repeat on the Santana CD America, America Para mi gente, para el país, para mi vida PARA MI VIDA! For my people, for my country, for my life More foreign strangers running through my blood Like hot salsa nights Spaniard masters inside of me Racing along side my Native American Mothers and Fathers I offer solar incantations to my ancestors To bring me peace But I am bound, bound, bound Bound to the colors of these flags waving on opposite shores Bound to the blood coursing through these veins That scream a blinding rainbow of diversity But I got to be affirmatively Black Pro Black Sho nuff Black One drop or not Black Black as being Blackballed Black as being Pitch Black Black as Black can be Black as midnight skin I am Black, I am Black, I am Black, I am Black I AM BOUND! I AM BOUND! I AM BOUND! The victim of my own bloodline Singing the blues in hues of fragile humanity For one moment, I would wish to cease being Black And just be FREE Is it a sin for revolutionaries to whisper these words in the dark? Am I a traitor for wanting to be just HUMAN? Sometimes Just sometimes Can’t a conscious poet say these words without it being a sin? Why I always got to be so militant? Why everything got to be black and white? Wrong and right? Is there no gray area for a soul like mine For a soul like yours Cause if we put down the swords and peel back our skin Guaranteed the same blood flows within See we not so different But America I ain’t gonna forgot the wrong done me America I ain’t gonna forget the wrong done my people Ain’t gonna forget the blood debt that must be repaid Ain’t gonna forgot you made my ancestors slaves Paved your easy road on the sweat and blood of blacks Ain’t gonna forget how many backs were split Spirits torn Hearts broken Families destroyed Homes shattered The Lost Tribe of Shabazz scattered Psychologically brutalized Commercialized Demonized Genocide Suicide Yet, your crime is my crime Your tears are mine to shed The burdens of the living and the dead are ours to be shared Your lies, your truth, your sin, your salvation, your hideousness, your beauty Are all mine For we are one and the same Can’t separate my essence, my love, my blood from yours Africa/America I am the children of both your wombs Forever bound in your names “America, America Will you come back to me baby? Please don’t run away I need you so!” *Lyrics from “America” by Carlos Santana & P.O.D.