I WAS BORN A SLAVE HERE

Black people, since I can remember, have always been picking themselves up
And fighting, sometimes good, sometimes bad, but fighting nonetheless
It was my grandfather that taught me this, fight the good fight
And remember, WHITE is not the enemy,
The enemies in ourselves

White people, on the other hand, seemed condascending to me
From the covers of the papers, from sea to shining sea
They lied to me and my family, saying things like "Everythings fine!"
And remember, WHITE is not the enemy
It's the changing times

Well, as a child with a white mother, and father proud and black
It was difficult as a child, understanding any of that
I looked at those injustices around me
I  let them marinade
And as I grew older I discovered
That everyones got a game

I grew into a man, and my mission was pure and fixed
I would find the spiritual answers, and put an end to this
The hatred between the children, emulating poor examples
Of battles that made no sense, and money everyones defense
The game got so ugly it ate away my innocence

But time has a way of bringing forth the Kings and Kennedys
Who put there lives up for examination
And execution to shed light on all of this
I was born a slave here, but my master black nor white
My enslavement was born from anger
At the idea I had to choose between my parents
Do I choose BLACK or White

But then it came to me, through a simple melody
Artistic expression did not have a face
So both my parents, so angered with me
As I picked up my guitar, and put it in its case
Waved goodbye forever
I'd never come back to this place

Now so many years later
I  call my mother most everyday, I do the same with dad
I sing them a song I wrote for them
Called, "What its like to have faith"
The faith that they instilled in me, the day
They watched me walk away
And then so many years later, when
They welcomed me home to stay....

Tony Taylor  (Chicago)