1. |
Prelude
00:48
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i have come from the mountain
he has come, he has come!
i have traversed the sea
he has come, he has come!
i am searching for my home
he has come...
where i’ll finally be free.
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2. |
I. Migration
03:20
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sister and me
drawing up the water,
ain’t got no ring
or money to our name.
wait patiently
for one day we will leave here,
and be a long, long way from home.
yes, it’s a long, long way from home.
daddy and me
holding hands, and crying
one hundred dollars,
a suitcase, and me.
when will it be
that we’ll next see each other?
i’ll be a long, long way from home.
yes, it’s a long, long way, and i’ve traveled so far
but things there are better than things where we are.
a long, long way, but i lift up my head
no pain will i show, no tear will i shed.
honey and me
living in the city
waitress by day,
student by night.
no one pays heed
to tired, sullen faces
who are a long, long way from home.
daughter and me
fighting for the first time
she screams in english,
i in chinese.
head ‘tween my knees
i’ve known it for so long now:
i’m a long, long way from home.
a long way
long way
long way
from home.
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3. |
II. Black Hair
03:09
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tough, so hard to comb
nappy, updo for days
short, i’ve waited this long for just a little growth
wash it, but not everyday
oil it, at least once a day
blow dry, air dry won’t work so don’t even try.
I hate my hair, it’s not flowing and long like all my friends
I can’t flip it or whip it or even just toss it and show off for the boys.
I have people touching it, they make fun of it, even call me names
So that is why… I hate my hair.
Boys, they like straight hair
Nice long, blonde-like straight hair
Me? With this I don’t stand a chance
Afro, I can’t pull it off
Cornrows, I’d look like a guy
Black hair, it’s something I’ve tried to hide all my life
Oh, just imagine it longer
Gee, can’t you picture it blonder?
Yes, I would give my heart gladly
To have hair that is beautiful, brushable, long enough, tossable, light enough, whippable, GRABBABLE, STRAIGHT…
but NO, I have this fro on top of my head that’s tougher than rope and as stiff as cardboard that none of my white friends really "get"
I hate my hair, it’s not bouncy and blonde like in my dreams
It’s a dark brown atrocity, straight up anomaly to all the white men
I am sick of perming it, and having people ask, “Hey, did you get a haircut?” .
So that is why I hate, I hate my hair.
frizzy fro, beaded black braids that stick of my head, stiff ponytails and rough texture….
I hate my hair.
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4. |
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milwaukee is a lonely place:
it’s cold here every night.
all these people, cold and gloomy,
as they wander, as they fight,
as they search to find a light,
i see you…
you…
ooh.
milwaukee is a lonely place:
i’m working hard, you know.
to get you here, so we can start anew
wipe what happened long ago,
take it simple, take it slow.
i need you…
you...
ooh.
the shining seas wait for you
in the land of the free.
this dream is ours, and ours to share forevermore
if you’d come here soon and stay here, with me.
milwaukee is a lonely place:
at least, it seems to be.
‘cause when i walk the streets all by myself,
there’s a couple that i see
holding hands so lovingly,
couldn’t that be you and me?
ooh.
ooh.
well, maybe
milwaukee isn’t lonely, after all.
maybe it’s me.
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5. |
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PERSON 1:
there’s someone i know
i saw him, and so
the other day we were talking
and i thought: oh, my god —
this guy is perfect for you.
i think his name’s kyle
we talked for a while
and i found out his last girlfriend was oriental,
and i thought: oh my god,
he’d definitely go out with you!
and i thought:
here we go, let me guess what she’ll say
he’s asian, or white and really into animé.
cause if he weren’t, well, then he wouldn’t like me...
and it’s hard enough to find someone, surprisingly
who won’t be always fucking fetishizing me
yeah, the future looks grim:
is this how it’s gonna be?
PERSON 2:
we talked about life,
my family, their strife
we even got to playing scrabble
and I thought, “oh my god,
this is going really well.”
we’re sitting for tea,
and she smiles at me
she’s asking me about my trip so far
But then she says,
“Be careful. the blacks here will rob you blind!"
and i thought:
Holy shit, when did this go so south?
I can’t believe that just came out of her mouth
why am I so different from my fellow man
must I prove myself to be something better than
what the color of my skin dictates for other men
the future looks grim
Is this how it’s going to be?
PERSON 1 + 2:
i like asian guys some black men do steal
don’t insult their eyes yes i’ve heard this spiel
and tell me that our kids would be ugly, but then again white men do that
cause that just makes me think: is this still how we think?
i thought that we’d come so far. I thought that we’d come so far
and suddenly, we both just realized:
you’d never say, “that girl’s ‘type’ is only white guys”
how come white has become the universal type
we’re saying that we live in a post-racial world
But people gawk at chocolate and vanilla swirled.
I’m sick of the stares, I hate the assumptions,
stereotyping’s not fair, I’m not for consumption.
the comments, pretensions,
the quote, “good intentions”
Oh please...
Is this how it’s gonna be?
Check, please.
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6. |
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Person 1:
i’m not the type to worry
about five years from now.
i'm living in this moment
won't think about when or how.
some people call me careless
and that’s fine with me.
but you see, i’m just a caged bird
who is longing to be free.
so when my mom kicked me out,
i didn’t even shed a tear.
instead, i looked her in the eye
and said, “just so we’re clear:"
i’m ready to run
never look back
ready to burn these bridges, one by one:
leave nothing intact.
ready to walk
right out that door.
(holding a bus ticket)
a ticket to my freedom...
who could ask for more?
Person 2:
he said he never loved me,
that he’s ready to move on.
and then, within two hours
he was going, going, gone.
i thought he’d taken everything
but out of the corner of my eye
i saw a shirt he’d left for me
something to remember him by.
so i held it in my hands,
knowing he would not return.
Person 1 + 2:
then i set that shit on fire,
and said, “burn, burn, burn, baby, burn!"
Person 2:
ready to fly
turn a new leaf
ready to write a symphony,
and find a brand-new motif.
ready to walk
right out that door.
Person 1 + 2:
a ticket to my freedom...
who could ask for more?
Person 1:
and i feel like something’s waiting for me
something better, than i’ve known,
Person 2:
and i know the only way that i’ll see
is to go it on my own...
Person 1:
there’s a moment when you realize
Person 2:
it’s time to try and improvise
Person 1 + 2:
time to open up my eyes
just tell me when i should go...
Person 1 + 2:
ready to run
take a last chance
ready to throw it all away,
without a care for romance.
ready to run right out that door
a ticket to my freedom:
who could ask for more?
a ticket to my freedom:
who could ask for more?
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7. |
VI. Carry On
05:17
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I woke up screaming
Sweat upon my face
I woke up screaming
Feeling out of place
And I thought…
What do you do when
Your world’s in two and
They’re burning you at the stake
You gotta carry on
Lift up your head
For one day the war will be done
You gotta carry on,
Don’t give in to hate
Yes the road is long, but be strong and hold on till we’ve won
I had a nightmare last night
Of a cop harassing me in my own home
Ready to aim shoot and fire away
Do you know how many of those nightmares are alive (today) in these streets?
Gunshots, tazors and clubs producing heart shattering music as they tear through muscle, shed more skin, send another black colored person back to the dirt of this earth
Baltimore and Ferguson
Nightmares aint just bad dreams anymore
People are losing sleep as they pay homage to coffin after coffin
Pleading and praying for a resurrection
In a world always making excuses for our crucifixions
Know that it only took Jesus three days to rise
And we’ve been doing it for centuries
How dare they define our black as darkness
Their white justice as light
Don't they know that these things they call us, broken vessels
Are still being used to keep our light lit, keep this historical hope alive
Don’t call it survival. Call it our pride.
Black pride.
I turn on the TV
And all I see is strain
My heart starts bleeding
My people are in pain
White kills black and
Black hates white and
The cycle repeats from there
[chorus]
I don’t want people to think
We don’t understand the fight
No, no, no
Give me a sign dear lord that
We’re doing this right; doing this right
[chorus x2]
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Cynthia Meng & Kim Onah New York, New York
Cynthia and Kim recently graduated from university, and are figuring out how to be Real People who live Real People Lives.
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