Breezin' With The Shadows

Juke jams and silent lambs,

The black boy runs

Sweating, dying, and singing.



Speak to him,

As the roots and vines spiral the whips on his back,

His soul echoes a spiritual

While staring eye to eye

With the white cloak, stalking from the shadows.



The dirt from his nails

"Why ya skin dirty?",

The curl from his wail,

"Momma why it hurt so much?"

Feeds the pavement of devastation,

As the shadows dance to a jazz tune

Around him.



"To be you must be close to despair,

You must remain a shadow in,

In our skin-head society."



Speak to them,

Sing it in a way only dem Negros will understand

"Here boy, take dis here cotton flower,

Dis is ya place on the world."



Juke Jams and Silent Lambs

A little black girl cries with a flower

In a field surrounded by piercing suns and silent petals,

Don't cry, your tears must turn into a song.



Coltrane tunes in the breezy afternoon,

Dries her tears blazing a monsoon

May the cotton wash their sins away

Because tears do fade away

But them scars on their skin

Will forever dance in the fields.