1. |
Say His Name
01:08
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1. Say His Name
Narrator: Unknown
When we are just standing here
Giving no cause for the fear
Death finds its way
To snuff out our days
Destroying our loves we hold dear
Stealing the life from our face
Putting us back in our place
We cannot be free
If for you and me
There’s a difference in how we’re embraced
He was just driving alone
On his way to his father’s home
His ignorant bliss
Allowed him to miss
That he’d soon march toward the unknown
He saw the red and blue lights
Did not even put up a fight
He did what they said
And now he is dead
There is no justice for him in sight
Please say his name
With pride and no shame
Repeat all these phrases
These cycles and phases
Go around again
They’re killing our friends
Our family, lovers and kids
Must our stories always end in such sorrow
Here’s a story for the end of tomorrow
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2. |
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2. Return to Dust, I’ll Return at Dusk
Narrator: Father Aaron Cline
I am running faster and faster to the gates. There is nowhere else to go, I cannot wait. I unlock the door and I let myself in. The crucifix above the stained glass listens. But what if no one is really there anyway? The landscape is turning black and blue. If can’t make a difference out there, I turn my eyes to You… and then I scream, “so help me God, if I lose another son or daughter from my congregation...” I can’t breathe, I can’t sleep, I can’t see the light at the end for us. Only the devil can save you when you’re in hell. Do we need to embrace these flames, or is it too early to tell? I’ve been spending far too much time in the cemetery. There’s no light at the end for us.
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3. |
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3. God Overslept on the Seventh
Narrator: Tamir Martin Sr.
I’ve avoided this stretch of road for weeks. My son is resting as we speak. He was stolen from me, and now I grieve. The flowers adorn the place he bled. The concrete still stained a violent red. I cannot push it from my head. Blame fear. Blame politics. Tell me h is killer’s brain was sick. But the truth is it’s always been this way. Please hear my desperate plea. I want my son back here with me. You’ve done it before… 1 Kings 17:17-24. As life continues to make its way, my son still buried to this day… perhaps because I lost my faith? I’m studying these stories. The words surround me completely. But nothing will do if You won’t give me what I need. I’m crying, please… Nothing will do, not even You, if You won’t give my son to me.
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4. |
Surviving Family
02:28
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4. Surviving Family
Narrator: Floyd Martin
Father has not been himself. I fetch for him his reading glasses on the shelf. I’ve never been so damn alone. This house on Coleman Street is no longer a home. Mother has not talked in days. I try to comfort her, but there’s nothing to say. “Can we organize our skin? Take the fight to the oppressors… we can win.” But she won’t respond to me. Take our happiness. Take our dignity. Take our will to live. Take everything. Take our laugh away. Take our family. Take our will to fight. Take everything from me.
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5. |
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5. Over and Over (The Outfielder)
Narrator: George Taylor
Bottom of the ninth. I’m not a star player, but I play my part so well. Yeah, some people died, but it has nothing to do with me. I’m straddling lines, biding my time, I have nothing so important to tell. There’s no need to whine. I’m doing just fine. I can’t let them shift their eyes to me. I am the outfielder, where no one knows my name. I like it that way. Please just leave me alone. I wanna go home. You’ll get nothing out of me. Not a fist or a shout, if you will just let me be. Another person died. I saw his grieving family on the TV tonight. I wish this wasn’t life, but it has always been this way. His father looked desperate, mother so vacant, brother had rage… I saw in his eyes. But I’m doing just fine. There’s no need to whine. So I will keep repeating this lie. I see the red and blue lights. They’re coming for me. I cannot hardly breathe. I don’t know where it went wrong. I swear to god I did everything that they asked. Now I’m dying alone. Just a name on an epitaph. It happens over and over and over and over again… I was the outfielder, where no one knew my name. I liked it that way. You stole that from me. Please don’t leave me alone. I wanna go home. You’ll get nothing out of me. Not a fist or a shout, because you took that from me. You took it from me.
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6. |
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6. The Game Was Rigged from the Start
Narrator: Floyd Martin
If home is where the heart is, this place is going dead. We’ll flatline all the streetlights on our quest to get ahead. Cut veins of bloody vanity, your storefronts turning. You never listened to us once your power overspread. Take aim and ignore your compass. You are not one of us. You traded your heart for sin. You killed the last of our people. We’re snuffing the evil. The revolution begins. These flags will cross your coffins then get folded, you’re not going home. We’ll burn you down. You’re on your own. If home is where the heart is, this city will be bled. We’ll mummify what’s left of you, then desecrate your dead. Slit throats of blue intolerance, the ever present pigs. You never cared to save us. From the start, the game was rigged. Take aim and ignore your compass. You are not one of us. You traded your heart for a gun and a badge. You took all that you could. There is blood on your hands, so our violence is understood. These flags will cross y our coffins then get folded, you’re not going home. Present this to your loved ones, but the truth is you are no “hero”. You took my brother away from me, the least I can do is make you bleed and breathe your last. You’re on your own. If home is where the heart is, tell me why you are so heartless?
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7. |
Sermon
00:49
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7. Sermon
Narrator: Floyd Martin
“Brothers and sisters, I stand before you wounded and hungry; but I am not afraid. We have them on the ropes. This has been the longest year for many of us, so let us make this revolution our resolution. A new age is dawning, and we are at the forefront. They will learn today that the oppressor does not get to dictate how we get our voices heard. No rights were ever won, nor progress made, by appealing to the humanity of the tyrannical regime through dialogue and debate. Someone in a position of power, historically, is none too eager to give up that power without a fight. So a fight is what they will get. Are you with me?!”
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