The fires are what the fires are

and sometimes they are for burning down pretenses
and then sometimes they are man made
to distract in a bunch of masks pretending

while the real fires burning down the world

the world we see

and the world we know

and the way it gets displayed
one would think we all were born in hate

we all have got something to pay
and the debt collectors are painting our skies

with selective speech
built on a lot of lies

that don’t represent the people here on the ground
who are friends and lovers
and just trying to make their own sounds

you’re my brother you’re my sister
but if we took some sides we wouldn’t be
and if we took some defines

would we even see
see what they don’t want us to see

like we must have been born in hate

and hate must be what we believe

and Farrakhan calls for blood

and the emperor looks on like he didn’t

add the laws and like he is a victim too
and the people on the ground

just going to work and singing and laughing

and trying to live against the force of trying to force us
to cry for blood too
somewhere in the middle
the real voiceless with nothing left to give

hey they been seeing the real thing for years

in all the man made fires
they still cry those tears

but out of sight out of mind
doesn’t really fit any agendas

there isn’t any fit of fury for them

here on the ground
here on the ground where we make our own

fires of love and life

just trying to live and trying to get by

and while we we were defining what couldn’t be defined

the emperor said nothing

had too many papers to sign
too many fires to start

while we were trying to defend ourselves

against some theatrical definitions

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