| I love my country
|
| By which i mean
|
| I am indebted joyfully
|
| To all the people throughout its history
|
| Who have fought the government to make right
|
| Where so many cunning sons and daughters
|
| Our foremothers and forefathers
|
| Came singing through slaughter
|
| Came through hell and high water
|
| So that we could stand here
|
| And behold breathlessly the sight
|
| How a raging river of tears
|
| Cut a grand canyon of light
|
| Yes, i’ve bin so many places
|
| Flown through vast empty spaces
|
| With stewardesses whose hands
|
| Look much older than their faces
|
| I’ve tossed so many napkins
|
| Into that big hole in the sky
|
| Bin at the bottom of the atlantic
|
| Seething in a two-ply
|
| Looking up through all that water
|
| And the fishes swimming by
|
| And i don’t always feel lucky
|
| But i’m smart enough to try
|
| Cuz humility has buoyancy
|
| And above us only sky
|
| So i lean in
|
| Breathe deeper that brutal burning smell
|
| That surrounds the smoldering wreckage
|
| That i’ve come to love so well
|
| Yes, color me stunned and dazzled
|
| By all the red white and blue flashing lights
|
| In the american intersection
|
| Where black crashed head on with white
|
| Comes a melody
|
| Comes a rhythm
|
| A particular resonance
|
| That is us and only us
|
| Comes a screaming ambulance
|
| A hand that you can trust
|
| Laid steady on your chest
|
| Working for the better good
|
| (which is good at its best)
|
| And too, bearing witness
|
| Like a woman bears a child:
|
| With all her might
|
| Born of the greatest pain
|
| Into a grand canyon of light
|
| I mean, no song has gone unsung here
|
| And this joint is strung crazy tight
|
| And people bin raising up their voices
|
| Since it just ain’t bin right
|
| With all the righteous rage
|
| And all the bitter spite
|
| That will accompany us out
|
| Of this long night
|
| That will grab us by the hand
|
| When we are ready to take flight
|
| Seatback and traytable
|
| In the upright and locked position
|
| Shocked to tears by each new vision
|
| Of all that my ancestors have done
|
| Like, say, the women who gave their lives
|
| So that i could have one
|
| People, we are standing at ground zero
|
| Of the feminist revolution
|
| Yeah, it was an inside job
|
| Stoic and sly
|
| One we’re supposed to forget
|
| And downplay and deny
|
| But i think the time is nothing
|
| If not nigh
|
| To let the truth out
|
| Coolest f-word ever deserves a fucking shout!
|
| I mean
|
| Why can’t all decent men and women
|
| Call themselves feminists?
|
| Out of respect
|
| For those who fought for this
|
| I mean, look around
|
| We have this
|
| Yes
|
| I love my country
|
| By which i mean
|
| I am indebted joyfully
|
| To all the people throughout its history
|
| Who have fought the government to make right
|
| Where so many cunning sons and daughters
|
| Our foremothers and forefathers
|
| Came singing through slaughter
|
| Came through hell and high water
|
| So that we could stand here
|
| And behold breathlessly the sight
|
| How a raging river of tears
|
| Is cutting a grand canyon of light |