Stolen Lands

It's raining, I'm staring outside my window There's a tiredness in my bones I feel helpless and alone Deep within our mother's womb Lie the bodies of children in unmarked hidden tombs Purpose and reason That's what they say that you'll get when you have kids And I did Bruises and fresh opened wounds Reveal stories that were told to me in ruin I knew an old man who'd sit in his armchair Sometimes at night I'd catch him crying, sitting there He cried because when he was a kid he spoke his own language And then lost his voice and part of his own lineage "This land is your land This land is my land This land was made for you and me" A poor choice of words by Woody Guthrie This land was taken, and now everyone sees One family had their land stolen The other was stolen from their land And here I stand It's dark out, the storms raging Static noise transmission on the radio There's an aching in my bones I feel lost and far from home Purpose and reason That's what they say that you'll get when you have kids And I did I'm not sad, I'm devastated Underneath all that pain, heartbeat of cold rain I know a black woman who sits at her desk chair Sometimes she cries sitting there, because fear became her worst nightmare She cries because her only son was killed by a shotgun Another senseless tragedy triggered by police brutality "This land is your land This land is my land This land was made for you and me" A poor choice of words by Woody Guthrie This land was taken and built on slavery One family had their land stolen The other was stolen from their land And here I stand