Sometimes its just like that… You are sitting at your favorite place for potato juice then you realize you don’t even fucking drink that anymore. So you order some bourbon and start to relax when you just can’t. There is tension… so you do some social media bullshit. Then it hits you what a mistake that is because the world seems to be going to hell in a handbasket- oh wait just us.
After the bourbon settles and I stop looking at news, I am actually thankful. I force people to listen to whatever I want on the jukebox by using my phone to override the next pick. It’s the little things. It dawned on me as I usurped some slash-my-wrist 80’s emo bullshit with some Rage that holee shit! 25 years ago when you were doin whatever the fuck you were doin like oh ya trying to finish high school while navigating teenage motherhood-ish…oh wait, I didn’t have my own kids but I had some my parents made so that was just me. Anyway a pivotal moment in music happened. I can always count on this album to tap my feelings with all the intensity I feel. I don’t need to know the same exact things, that happened – I just need the Rage.
Killin’ in the name of
quarter century of lives lived through pain unheard of
Where was I when things goin down
Kickin’ it safe in my skinny albino alpaca town
Beat a girl to the ground or did you just fuck around
No idea what those boys been through
How those girls feel shamed
All the times we cause the pain
I’m a silly white girl with privilege
Such as it is today
I work for less pay than the pyramid’s top
but what the hell have I to say
I make myself sick
I want for nothing
What more could I wish?
Who am I to complain?
WHO AM I TO COMPLAIN?
Who am I to feel pain?
Who am I to be pissed, when much is denied to so many
and I am the one who took it away
My starting matters not
The skin I wore with luck galore
It kept me safe and whole nobody’s whore
but it couldn’t protect the rest
Ask my bro… he’ll protest.
His shape, His life
Mold my love and passion
His skin was no protection
Nor his gender from action and detection
Sad fact is we ARE human
Our race plays only plays a part
but our being our soul… it comes from the heart
We have a choice each one
We are the metamorphosis of our choices
We choose what we become…
Do we become the forces?
The same that burn crosses
Let them cause holes in our spirits
Causing tears and fears
Are we inferior
am I in fear of years
Does skin matter so much
Or does our heart determine us
Do we let the established tell us
Or do we
Tell them who we are
Do we stand up and testify
Do we take the power back