Ode to George Floyd
With a knee on your head, until you were dead, and tell me what does the world say. We wail and cry, as another day goes by and tomorrow becomes yesterday.
You beg and you plead, for the cops to pay heed, for justice, for mercy, for air. And we wail and cry, as another day goes by, and hopes for tomorrow despair.
George is the name, that is fanning a flame, hell hath the fury to burn. We wail and we cry, as another day goes by, refusing the lessons to learn.
I woke with a fright, just past the midnight, and checked out my colour of skin. With a wail and a cry, as another day went by, oh why can’t we see what’s within.
Don’t pretend there’s a case, or that this ain’t about race, that black doesn’t come with a stain. We wail and cry, as another day goes by, and the sirens they ring out again.
Young Martin King, looked for character within, and said he dreamed of a day. But I heard Marty sigh, in that sweet by and by, forgive them, they know not what they do.
The ministers pray, the politicians play, with eloquence and platitudes deep. But George he is dead, from a knee to the head.
Surely now, let us all stop and weep.
RIP George Floyd