My body is tired and worn
aching with the burden of keeping my head high upon my shoulders
my mind is heavy and overwhelmed knowing the obstacles that lie ahead
rest is of no comfort
lately sweet dreams are merely a memory
nightmares haunt me during the day

skeletons clang inside the closet
so loudly it's apparent to any one with a hearing ear
they serve as a constant reminder of the secrets that were swept under the carpet and the wool that I pull over my eyes
melancholy tones fill the night air
drowning out the clatter of the ghetto beyond my window

Billie sings aloud, speaking to my soul
whispering in my ear, sharing her secrets
our spirits are interwoven, like a tapestry of the old and the new
the mirror shows a reflection all too accurate
"Papa may have & Mama may have but God bless the child that got his own"
unfortunate for the child that has nan nutta

PnutButta knows pretty black baby
I know the sorrow of not wanting to see tomorrow
Bill withers said "Aint no sunshine when she's gone"
but what is her forecast if she's been gone all her life?
walking amongst us, but her head is in the clouds and dust
child of the stars, dreaming during the day, masquerading at night
still searching for the truth in the light......

She's like a luminous rose
burning brightly like the burning bush Moses once saw
But she's so melancholy you would never know it
Pretty black baby, turned lady so melancholy.