I turned the TV on the other day and a man in a suit told me the world holds too much danger.
There’s people unlike me, people I don’t know, people that are strangers.
So if I’m the good guy, then that must mean these people are the bad.
Otherwise I’d be the bad guy and that idea is just mad.
There’s a war every day and it’s started for some freedom,
for democracy, for things you’ll take even if you don’t need ‘em.
There’s a woman with a cackle, the problems the first black president didn’t tackle
and all the ones the white ones have ignored and stored in shackles.
No apologies, acknowledgement, or recognition -
we follow drivers, but ignore ignitions.
See what I mean is, the person steering sometimes forgets
the mechanisms that allow them to get from outlet to outlet.
Without the gears, the nuts and the bolts,
the workers and the students, what would power hold?