Put me in the coffee shop on the corner where the open mic is on fire

Keeps my tea steaming (King Crimson the kind you like)

And my pen writing listening to lips

Speaking singing preaching hip hopping words

Words yeah

Put me in that gallery on the corner where artists hands create images

Lead to visions move our bodies different places

Room for space to formulate conversations

And discussions bringing words to mouths

Word- word

I'm in that crowd outside just around the corner where fists are fuming with consciousness

Signs are painted with words, images, bodies moving for justice

Mad mother fuckers with reason come together with movement, speaking out

Can you hear their words? WORD

Yup I swear I won’t do that again

I can feel them consequences coming back again

Find my way through the wall instead of bashing head

Might reside in this place but not living here

So put me in a place where ain’t nobody trying to put me in my place

I’m tired of people looking at me strange

If I walk through the hundreds with a smile on

Or walk slowly through the train turnstile when the lines long

Am I wrong? Well, even if I am

I’m not interested in fixin up the jam

Cuz we still becoming cramped

We widdled down to fit in with their plans

Fear the trickle of the sand

Hear the big and little hand playing

I took a damn stance –

Wishin I could get you off my back

Like a middle-aged woman with a tramp stamp

But I can’t and I stand in a quick sand box

Land locked – I understand I’m a swimmer

I catch a glimpse of the C-orner

Point when my spirit really needs water

Thirst gets quenched in both words since

Which helps me realize that we gonna

Rise again I see the fire in

The eyes of them that sidelined Poseidon

By writing and reciting picket lines and plenty of handwritten signs

Shadows, space and lines have a sand’s grip of time

While sequestered with canvas, pamphlets, answers and sips

A man can forget the pain but it’s hard when you’re weighted by

The stress and cognitive dissonance of your daily lives

Have your cake and eat it under sun and shaded sky

With moon and stars waiting by

It’s okay to try

We are visitors here

I try to remember with vision that’s clear

I’m not a prisoner here

So get me out of this place I’m not living here

Get me out of this place