Blackbird by Gabrielle Smith Lyrics
The wind whistles, insults a white women
And now harbours a parade of caskets, all waiting for a blackbird
If it does not come, a black boy will do
Hands up! Don't shoot!
Black boys fail at staying alive and strange fruit grows from the concrete
This poem is for the black boys who died too soon, because innocence is a after thought when it comes to black bodies
America says 'Black boy!' and all of the sudden you'll deserve it, it will be self defence
Whether unarmed, handcuffed or hands up, you'll deserve it and doesn't that sound familiar
Because history truly does repeat itself at every corner store, at every [?] station, with or without skittles, with or without a hoodie, with or without a toy BB gun
History repeats itself while America sips on all the Arizona Tea, spill after every [?]
History tells us that America preferes white doves to black boys
Every 28th hour a black boy dies from a gun shot
A human walks in the streets and it becomes walking in the streets
A black boy begins to walk and the street becomes a [?]
Because when you look like a crime scene, you're always on time, whether wips, chains, ropes, guns - this country continues to snatch the wind from our lungs
The soil thinks black means ocean floor, black means drowning
But secrets has always had a way of [?] back to shore
When we remember them, we allow these vast wings to fly behind the heat of a gun
When we remeber them, they are alive
Treyvon Martin, Michael Brown, Kimani Gray, Oscar Grant, Sean Bell
This is how the boys in blue make it rain, this is rain falling into the ground, like a blackbird into a window - like a black boy into his grave
Police brutality is Americas domestic policy waiting for my- waiting for my son, bacause my son will be black
As if to say it will be all my fault
I am afraid I will not- I am afraid I will not be able to save him
So when the gates of heaven open, close them behind him
How can a black boy save his life if it never belonged to him?
His skin - too rough, too dirtroad, not enough sky, not enough flight to make it home safely
America, this is an emergency
This is your heartbeat failing in California, New York City, Missouri, Chicago, Mississippi
America this is a warning! We are not dead, we refuse to be killed
We are black and our lives matter!
We are generations to come and this world will be nothing without color
And now harbours a parade of caskets, all waiting for a blackbird
If it does not come, a black boy will do
Hands up! Don't shoot!
Black boys fail at staying alive and strange fruit grows from the concrete
This poem is for the black boys who died too soon, because innocence is a after thought when it comes to black bodies
America says 'Black boy!' and all of the sudden you'll deserve it, it will be self defence
Whether unarmed, handcuffed or hands up, you'll deserve it and doesn't that sound familiar
Because history truly does repeat itself at every corner store, at every [?] station, with or without skittles, with or without a hoodie, with or without a toy BB gun
History repeats itself while America sips on all the Arizona Tea, spill after every [?]
History tells us that America preferes white doves to black boys
Every 28th hour a black boy dies from a gun shot
A human walks in the streets and it becomes walking in the streets
A black boy begins to walk and the street becomes a [?]
Because when you look like a crime scene, you're always on time, whether wips, chains, ropes, guns - this country continues to snatch the wind from our lungs
The soil thinks black means ocean floor, black means drowning
But secrets has always had a way of [?] back to shore
When we remember them, we allow these vast wings to fly behind the heat of a gun
When we remeber them, they are alive
Treyvon Martin, Michael Brown, Kimani Gray, Oscar Grant, Sean Bell
This is how the boys in blue make it rain, this is rain falling into the ground, like a blackbird into a window - like a black boy into his grave
Police brutality is Americas domestic policy waiting for my- waiting for my son, bacause my son will be black
As if to say it will be all my fault
I am afraid I will not- I am afraid I will not be able to save him
So when the gates of heaven open, close them behind him
How can a black boy save his life if it never belonged to him?
His skin - too rough, too dirtroad, not enough sky, not enough flight to make it home safely
America, this is an emergency
This is your heartbeat failing in California, New York City, Missouri, Chicago, Mississippi
America this is a warning! We are not dead, we refuse to be killed
We are black and our lives matter!
We are generations to come and this world will be nothing without color