If you can't beat them, join them.
That system that beats you down
Pick a side, have a good ride
Finish it to the end.

Hasn't worked out too well.
What to do? What to do?

If you can't beat them, become them.
That power of the opressor
Use it, abuse it, live large
Crack that whip.

Hasn't worked out to well.
What to do? What to do?

If you can't beat them, change them.
Sweet knowledge and empathy
Change a heart, make a friend
Seek out humanity.

Hasn't worked out to well.
What to do? What to do?

The fires have razed the city
Pitchforks, picketers and angry mobs
Marching through rubble, the dust hasn't settled

The whispers ask so many questions
How? Why? What?
But this storm is done talking.
They shouted from the bottoms of hell
They shouted as every ear turned deaf
Words of peace, words of want, words of need
This fiery inferno is words of the unheard
The violent night of the voiceless has begun

The fires have razed the city
Pitchforks, picketers and angry mobs
Marching through rubble, the dust hasn't settled

These white men are sick
These white men are ill

Someone call the doctor!

Control. Control. Control.

I said hey man stop oppressing me
They said hey boy. we make the rules

She said hey man, stop legislating my body
They said hey girl, it's God's will.

He said hey man, I'm just making ends meat
They said hey boy, get that *** to work

I said hey man, your profits are from misery
They said hey boy, if you don't like it leave

She said hey man, I just want fair wage
They said hey girl, its a man's world

He said hey man, you stole this land
They said they boy, my rifle says otherwise

Someone call the doctor!

These white men are sick
These white men are ill

Control. Control. Control.

Do not be baited
Into the notion
That because
Things could be worse
That they are somehow better

Do not give into the idea
That we are somehow past
The mistakes of nations before us
We are always a moment away
From Ancient Rome, fickle and meek

Do not listen to such beliefs
That things will just get better
Hanging onto hope is a stagnant dream
True change is revolution
But they want monotony to be the game

I can see it in their eyes
their disdain piercing through
my ignorant gaze
rolling in discontent
weakening my resolve
as they close to dismiss
my very existence

I can hear it in their voices
with deliberate tones of sarcasm
to destroy my esteem
throwing facetiously coy remarks
to challenge my will
outnumbered in unison
to quell me into silence

If you saw me in
the eyes of a starving man,
would you turn away?

This commitment that's
ordinary to many
catches up to me

and it walks with me.
Our eyes focused on pavement,
hands in our pockets.

Looking for the words
to feed strangers where our hearts
leave people hungry.

There was a river
sixteen miles north the highway
where we lost our sins

and sent them downstream,
where they wash their hoods with them.
White like oppression.

When we hang our heads,
they're behind us with the rope.
The same as ever.

Dry your eyes children,
the fight for bread has ended.
We fight to survive.

Dance flower dance and
When it rains you might drown but
“freedom” has shades now.

To the mower you’re
just taller now. Just taller.
I had dreams last night,

took ill by morning,
I was on a bus headed
somewhere new to me.

I didn’t know where,
I just knew I was scared and
wanted to go home.

I hate this so much,
and I can’t even give up.
I haven’t earned it.

So dance flower dance,
tear your roots out, die trying
to impress us all.

Here we are again
You've fallen apart
Broken and in crumbles
But I am your answer

What is my name?

So long you have sat
On the sidelines, hated
For existing, when all you
Wanted was freedom

So what shall I be called?

You've cried out, screamed
Injustice! Silence and compliance
The only answer recieved
No more, for I have come

What voice shall be known as?

Retribution, vengeance or
Something inbetween?

I'm ready and willing
Give life, breathe despair
Into my flesh and I will
Liberate your suffering

But I ask again, what is my name?