Matana Roberts Kersaia
[Unintelligible background singing]
I see, the way he looks at me, and I wonder what does he have planned
[Background vocals in french throughout the verse]
Should I look back? or should I look away?
Do I have a choice or is inevitable?
The laws of the land say that I must submit
Yet the laws of my body confuse me
I am [aged?] a woman, bought and sold to bear the fruit of a seed that I do not wished to
Plant, but perhaps there's a way for me to survive, to strive, to [?], maybe even be me, to be free, me to be, me to be free, me to be me
How would I rectify in my soul, once I meet my maker?
Black man, red man, brown man, white man
Where is my savior? where is he? or where is she? Perhaps it is me
I have seen so much, but yet have experienced less than most dogs
I am smart, I am strong, I know how to survive, with the sophistication only known to the cunningness of beings
I am the beginning, of the female hustling spirit
Hustling to survive, so that others may strive, to be something more than me
Hustling to survive so that others may strive to be something more than me
Hustling to survive so that others may strive to be something more than me
I am...
...Coin, coin
I am...
...Coin, coin
I am twenty five
There will never be pictures of me
[Screaming in the background]
Jones, Jones, Jones, Jones, Jones...