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

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?)