O Say Can You See

The tribes are picking up sides
from Bosnia, to Belfast,
to the West Bank, to LA
and there's nowhere left to hide
for the children of the dream
walking hand in hand
down the black and white wound
running across this land.

What's wrong with this picture?
Can you find the human
being beaten on this screen?
Being beaten on that screen?
He deserved it. Payback happens.
What goes around, comes around,
said the eye for an eye blind men.
But the rioting is on the wall.
Mr. President, you have a call
on the white courtesy phone.

It's the BLANKS' fault.  The BLANKS
started it.  You know how they are.
They don't really belong here.
So we sell ourselves on talk shows
like bugs shaken in a jar.
And the finger of blame points around
in an angry trigger circle.
We're all living in the same hood now,
buying into Babylonian hype.
Mad. Ave. went to bed with Holly Would
and raised a little family of stereotypes.

Say, can you see

somebody who looks just like me,
somebody who looks just like you,
peering out from the leaves
of our family tree
rooted in Mother Africa?
We are the children of the dream
who wandered our separate ways
along time gone, gathered together
here again today.  Remember?
Can we call ourselves brothers and sisters?

What color was the hand
Cain raised against Abel
after it fell?  How will we ever
wipe the slate clean
when the powers that be
sell us whitewash and blackball
so we can paint ourselves
into our own corners,
the mirrors of our monsters?
Can you see the eyes
of a sister, a brother,
a mother, a father
behind the masks
of your worst nightmares?

O say can you see
through the lies
that we are not us?
That we are us versus?
And where is Justice?
Or is it just us?

We are the children of the dream
wandering the desert of America
through the smokescreen
from the fire next time come home,
walking hand in hand
down the black and white wound
running across this land
healed over with each step
together and together again.
O say can you see the person
walking next to you now?