Rattle them chains, rattle them chains

Rattle them shackles on the wall

Rattle them chains, rattle them chains

Rattle them shackles on the wall

 

One too many legacies

One too many fine homes

Handed up that family tree

On roots tangled in black man’s bones

 

Think you earned this by yourself?

Think this is your due?

Better check that cellar wall

For oppression’s residue

 

Nobody’s got clear title

Unless the land was cleared by his toil

No such thing as clean money

When the hands that receive it are soiled

 

One child goes to Harvard

One child goes to Yale

One child damn near lucky

Just to keep himself out of jail

 

Your child’s doing powder

My child’s doing rock

Your child gets PBJ

Mine’s thrown in the old cell block

 

Your name’s on the mailbox

Your name’s on the yacht

But guess what, that’s my name too

On everything you got.

 

©2011 Pamela Cardullo Ortiz