|
Shackles are heavy on the wrist |
|
Stacked like sardines, belly of a ship |
|
Live in your own piss and shit and being seasick |
|
Cracked across your back with a thick leather whip |
|
Salt water burns through your wounds |
|
Women are starving with babies in their wombs |
|
On your hands and knees trying to cry God please |
|
Exhausted your voice is too weak to speak |
|
Neighbors and strangers are dying beside you |
|
Their decaying bodies you're tied to |
|
Cling tight to your fight for survival |
|
Wonder if your tribe will ever try to find you |
|
Arrive somewhere strange, the air is cold |
|
You can see your breath and you're barely clothed |
|
Your first time ever seeing snow |
|
Sleeping next to it on a hard dirt floor |
|
Go from can't seeing see in the morning to can't see at night |
|
You work till your hands bleed white |
|
Your native language you can't recite |
|
Murdered on sight if you try to read or write |
|
When you bend all of your life and can't see the light |
|
It get's painful to stand upright |
|
Right? |
|
And your eyes bear the sight of your wife |
|
Being being pulled from your shack and brutalized at night |
|
You only taste joy when babies are born |
|
Which becomes an occasion to mourn |
|
Separated, torn from your celebrating arms |
|
Then as quickly as they came they were gone |
|
Sold away from your farm this is all they've known |
|
Never heard stories from home |
|
They forget your name T |
|
The culture from which you came |
|
Teaching it'll get you slain. |
|
Praying to your god will get you the same and tortured to near death lest you complain |
|
No Choice left you sing through the pain and pray that your suffering wasn't in vain |
|
End of your chain, end of your life |
|
Your grandchildren born with no end is sight |
|
So you muster up all of your might |
|
And your last breath comes out...fight |
|
This is actually true |
|
Now stop and imagine that's you |
|
Now stop imagining unravel the truth and ask just who is it happening to |
|
Everything that the passenger do |
|
The driver experience too |
|
So if humanity is one |
|
Then we all get burned when it's hell that we're traveling through |
|
(Chorus) |
|
You've got to save my soul |
|
Put me back together make me whole |
|
Said we don't know which way to go |
|
Take my hand and place me on that road |
|
(Verse 2) |
|
Trapped in a history we don't understand |
|
Can't remember how this blood got on our hands |
|
Never been taught about the ugly past |
|
Expecting God not to punish man |
|
Our ancestors brought us control |
|
We realize now that the cost was our soul |
|
Got me feeling like an empty shell |
|
Prison guard that inherited a cell |
|
I'm desperate to find my place |
|
Emptiness lies behind my face |
|
Flowers only die in a vase |
|
A heart only dies encased in a lie we call race |
|
I hear the song but I can't sing along |
|
Something's really wrong I can't put my finger on |
|
Terrified to admit it's wrong |
|
Cause I'm hiding in the ruins of a legacy that still lives on |
|
Our identity is hinged upon the miserable myth we've been caught since we're born |
|
Until we mend what was torn |
|
The debt of a sin lingers long after the vicitim's moans |
|
This is actually true |
|
Now stop and imagine that's you |
|
Now stop imagining unravel the truth |
|
And ask just who is it happening to |
|
Everything that the passenger do the driver experience too |
|
So if humanity is one then we all get burned when it's hell that we're traveling through |
|
(Chorus) |
