Lyrics An Intermission for the Struggle of Black Life... - Turkish Dcypha, Awate

An Intermission for the Struggle of Black Life...

It’s cold outside
Oh, it’s cold outside
This is where you can see tragedies written in Ulysses
The police handle us brutally, black families under scrutiny
Black fist in the air
Are with me say yeah
I’m willing to dare
The vision is clear
On the streets
All of us, all of us on the streets
Next time they take our brother, next time they rape our sister
Next time the press paint a picture of this not being a racial issue
Next time I can’t get a job or can’t get a flat or school holds me back
I’m not having it
I’m not having them telling me my ancestors were savages
And the next time you touch my afro
Lord have mercy on your soul
Everything of ours you steal
Our knowledge, our land, our oil, our diamonds
Our coltan, our gold, history and science
Everything of ours you steal
Our music, our dance, our fashion, our medicine
Your interventions are a deadly form of meddling
(You feel?)