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letra de a black and white affair - timothy welbeck

verse 1
mrs. crowder approached two dozen kindergartners/with boxes of crayolas, bins of markers/sheets of paper, and the tender charge of/make a self-portrait and splendid artwork/she needed say no more, my attention sparked up/and i raced to create the images she brought up/her boxes overwhelmed with their -ssortment of hues/but i continued as an artist with a portrait to do/my hand found a brown, then i caught a glimpse of hazel/then a peach, ignoring in consequential labels/i labored over each line for what seemed the span of hours/slaving to perfect it, i kept on glancing downwards/and while my schoolmates scribbled and played, i trickled away, when soon would come the rants of doubters/and through the clamor it seemed that all they took the chance to shout was,/ “you’re not white, why are you using little pieces of peach/you’re black, you should have drew your picture with these”/to bewildered to speak, i didn’t disagree/i didn’t even respond or try to answer back/i was too busy hearing them say, “you’re not white, you’re black”

hook
you’re black, you’re a black(repeat 3x)

verse 2
at an age when most youth seem to prove unruly/i differed from the pack, pursuing approving in schooling/i hung off my teacher’s every word, and i rarely found lectures dull/and fairly soon the respect would grow for the young man with the spectacles/as the kid from the second row who took the best lesson notes, with a keen intellect you would expect to see in adults/even when the teacher talked about how empires back in europe fell/i was getting more a’s than a pack of duracells/and my parents would show their pride saying, “son you’re doing well”/and i would glow inside just because of how good it felt/my peers would tease, but most times i withstood it well/until one faithful day a student, he stood and yelled,/”timothy this isn’t deep, why is it that you read/your pants don’t dip down to your feet, and you sound different when you speak/you need to get it together, you better start acting right/otherwise we’ll say you’re not black, you’re white…”

hook
you’re white, you’re white (repeat 3x)

verse 3
there’s no escaping it, “one ever feels this two-ness”/two souls, two thoughts beneath this human/two striving, two fighting, two vying with two grips/two warring ideals that peel the hubris/that reveals one voice that speaks through two lips/and tell the world which of the two is truest/which of the two will choose him/which of the two is you tim/i heard black, and thought of the color of asphalt/but i didn’t see how that color fit me at all/i tried to escape it, and it came wandering back/and i lot the name “tim” for the moniker “black”/but after we embraced, it changed place for a different word/i know i’m not black, because i feel in love with literature/and you know black people don’t read unless they pictures first/and i know i’m not white, i’m covered with a reminder/so torn, what i took the chance to find was/the father, he is my definer long before the color line was/so i cannot let it concern me, what the world will term me/i let the hours p-ss as the world is turning/and color my response with this reaction/i am a man of god the world wants to call a black man

hook
you’re black, you’re white/you’re black, you’re white, you’re . .

- timothy welbeck

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