Chapter 7 - Ezra Collective, Ty

I generally vent from the ventricle

Trust a aorta to dispense what is sensible

In a world where the truth is unmentionable

I tip-toe with my tap shoes, my black views are not identical

Not very welcome, like Van Helsing at the Vatican

Kicking that rap again

Blurting out that I’m African

And so are some of you

But you’d rather cup your ears and sing Xanadu

I guess to challenge the world could damage you

And really rip through the flesh like a cannibal

Wipe the slate clean, proceed to daydream

Wipe the slate clean, proceed to daydream

Yes, the blue skies occasionally turn grey

Yes, we calculate your age by your birthday

But we also love ourselves in the worst way

Man- and Woman-kind floored from the first day

Young World

Chapter 7

Young World

Young World, Young World, before you say «hey, let’s hold up»

Spreadsheets and see the way things fold up

It’s been a minute, yes indeed, so you’re older

Is there a big, fat chip on your shoulder?

Take care before it becomes a boulder

An avalanche, an aroma

That can leave you stuck in a coma

Many lessons, many teachers in life

Some of us never graduate with that diploma

Or, even make it to the next phase

We celebrate days and weeks and months and years

Should we celebrate sweat and a bunch of tears

In a world where you’re rubber-stamped worthless

From the beginning

Got to go and find your purpose

Nobody’s grinning

The winner never seems nervous

Life is not just a moment, it’s a skillful opponent

That you have to fight or learn to just… roll with