Thanks so much to my brother, Jack, for playing fantastic drums on this track, and thanks so much to Marshall Dawson for outstanding mixing and mastering.
Call this a post-racial society one more time
and im going postal. You’re going “colorblind”,
which should be called “x-ray vision”;
helps you look past a history that makes your neck hairs stiffen.
And that history repeats as bloody as ever,
but now it's on our screens, so we're suddenly more offended.
They put the underdog in office
‘cos they saw subversion sparking,
and if you throw a dog a bone, it'll quiet the barking.
But no matter how black his skin or blue his party may be,
he still must be prepared to push that button to blow every last molecule to smithereens.
Stomping in a squad car's windshield in the light of midday.
Would Freddie Gray have wanted it this way?
That’s not my place to say,
but just being a human qualifies me to claim:
compassion's bound to get us farther than hate.
"Can anyone help?!"
cries the poorman with his palms out.
So obsessed with ourselves,
he becomes the nuisance in the background.
He's asking for your help
because it's you who can produce it.
He's not a hustler going to hell,
he's already been through it.
When I get pulled over, I wonder if I'll be late.
Some of us have to wonder if they've sealed a tragic fate.
"These cops are hardened by their years"
says Milwaukee police chief.
But do they feel nothing when they hear
"I cant breathe!"?
This isn't a paper-cut
and when it was, we soaked it in lime.
No, this is a 12-inch blade lodged deep in your gut
and we keep twisting it left and right.
“Come together, right now, over me.”
“All you need is love, love is all you need.”
Messages from the 60’s begging to be
resurrected and practiced ‘cos more than ever we need
to stare belligerence in the eyes and breathe.
So I breathe... breathe...
But disorder doesn’t have two big lungs like me,
so I exhale all this shit and resign to peace.
released May 6, 2015
Artwork: Gabriel Vidal-Hallett & The New York Times
all rights reserved