Twenty minutes to make a connecting flight through Brussels back to the States
Stuck in the back of the passport control line a sudden breeding ground for nationalist hate
The American contingent was calling out for blood
Saying, “Those Africans are holding this up, where’s the line for us?”
I should’ve could’ve would’ve told them all to go to hell...but...
Not wanting to miss my plane, I hopped onto their wagon train Waving our blue books like American flags
More concerned with making my flight than speaking up for what was right
I joined the Americentric crowd
I couldn’t defend
Maternal figure stared and sighed as the Ami’s muscled into line
And she cast me a disparaging glance
Humbled by our foreign exchange, her eyes said to me:
“Son, you’re no revolutionary”
I couldn’t defend
No, not that day
The piece of land where you were made doesn’t mean you deserve to be paid some extra respect from the rest of the world
That passport clutched tight in your hand doesn’t make you more of a man
So don’t bother getting your flag unfurled
We’re obligated to defend ‘gainst nationalist racism
When it rears its ugly head
In Brussels, it was 4th and 10 and I dropped the ball once again
But now I’m on defense
(Why don’t you give up your pride?
Just give it up)
credits
from Waiting for the Echoes,
released November 5, 2021
From Demo '98, Self-Released, September 1998
Recorded Summer 1998 @ MAST Studios in New Jersey by Steve Casper
Remastered by Bill Henderson @ Azimuth Mastering
Line-Up:
Aaron Scott: Vocals
Oscar Rodriguez: Guitars, Vocals
Carly Guarino: Bass, Vocals
Jaime Villamarin: Drums
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