Black is a book of secrets
The world's words written
without fanfare for the colour
just the hue of inhumanity
Like a plague... like a sin
if its black... it's hard bound

Bound, booked and stacked
high on history's shelves,  
real words living life: over again
chain, maim, pain, inhumane
Don't flinch figure! Lynch figure!
If you ain't a figure, go...

Figures, black as night as day
stray cats ain't panters, they can't pant
Counted cruelly as commodities
But who's been chequeing?
Says who black isn't beauty?
Says who diva Devi isn't a cutie?

Black is now back
with a Kodak claque
hot like Lewis Hamilton's wheels,
hot heels, a black dress stepping
on broadwalks, cats talking
"time to lift off the tarmac"