Look beyond the scars, tattoos and shaved head, Look trough my eyes,
And into my soul,
What do you see?
Do you see me?
Or what you want to see,
Do you shy away in fear?
In a life driven by ignorance,
Do you guess my past, and determine my future, Do you see tobacco tin and rolling papers? And forget I have my own choice,
Do you have me banged to rights after one minuet? With out knowing my past,
Do you not look beyond my attire?
To see appearances do not make a man,
Does my accent reek of her majesties pleasure? When the nearest I have been is Loftus road, Do my scars show my fighting days?
Not accident or misadventure,
Would you judge the good book as bland?
By the lack of illustration on the cover,
For stripper do you see a tart?
Not someone earning money to live,
In an England supporter do you see hooligan, And ignore his son at his side,
We are all what we are,
Not stereotypical of our gender, Race or creed, We all need our five minuets to clear our names, But why should we justify our lives,
When it is you who should not cast the first stone, Who are we to judge you?
When its you who are in the wrong,
Or do we thrive on the fear we bring out in you, Is it not us who have the upper hand?
We cook your food,
We pleasure your sins,
We drive you limousines, We check your coats in, Clean your houses,
We do not live in fear of you, But its you who live in fear,
Rise up and fight my people, We are no longer the down trodden, We are the future,
We are free, And have always been, We are the world.
Having re-read this it sounds a bit more reveloutionary than I remembered it to be. It started after I got fed up being followed around a Boots the chemist. By the gimpy security guy. I am heavily tattooed, and in the summer i wear shorts to let the leg tattoos get a breath of fresh air. It had been about the third time the same guy have just shadowed me around the shop. I, like I would from time to time, let my displeasure with this known.. “If that gimpy prick dont stop following me around I am just gonna loose it” I said to the person I was with, loudly.
So I, like I do, over analysed the situation, and gave it a lot of thought. People like to pigeon hole us all, and my appearance had me pigeon holed as a wrong ‘un. If i ever pulled tobacco and papers out, because i was not flush enough to buy Benson and Hedges, people naturally assume you are also a stoner, i am but thats beside the point. Some people like to put labels on us, just so they know how much respect we deserve