TWO THOUSAND MILES by Tom Jensen
If I were weather I’d be rain
Because I’m always falling down
Funny people never seem to bat an eye
If I were a God I’d be the Holy Spirit
Because I speak my words without a sound
As I open my mouth all you hear is a sigh
If I were an emotion then I’d be pain
Because it’s what I’ve known my whole life
The only sure thing is that you’ll die
If I had to pick a status then I’d be single
A life like mine’s too hard on a wife
If I said I love anything that’d be a lie
If I was a color
I’d be green with envy
Asking who was it that colored my skin?
If I was a war
I’d be my own worst enemy
Unable to trust in faith nor kin
If I was a bird
I’d be a raven black as night
The same as all others’ eyes see
Even if I was benevolent
I’d still find some reason to fight
For all that’s been done to me
If I was wine
I’d get better with age
Inside my bottle locked so tight
If I was a novel
Then I’d be blank on every page
For I never liked seeing things in only black or white
If I were liquor I’d be a hundred and fifty proof
Because I’m guaranteed to rearrange your mind
For these eyes have seen the horrors
To which you’re all so blind
If I was a treasure full of knowledge and riches
I’d be buried so deep that no one could ever find
Long considered just a legend
So that no one ever paid me any mind
If I were a season I’d be winter
Just like this world so cruel and cold
Choked by such a heavy blanket oh so white
If I were metal I’d be iron
Strong as hell forget glittering like gold
For what everyone wants isn’t always what’s right
If I were another man’s feet
Perhaps I’d wear another pair of shoes
And maybe I’d think everything’s going fine
If I was music to the ears
I’d have invented the blues
Singing a song that was way before it’s time
If I was someone else
I’d never know of being me
Maybe I wouldn’t be surrounded by these frowns
But all happy smiles
If I wasn’t a slave
Then the word freedom wouldn’t mean much to me
And I wouldn’t know
That we still have to walk two thousand miles
If the color of my skin didn’t make any difference
Then you’d think of me as the same as you
But raised as you were maybe you can’t be blamed
For when a child is taught never to believe in resistance
Sometimes they must be forgiven for what they do
Even though it’s by their father’s whip that I am tamed
Only if I were war
Maybe I would be civil
I’m just not sure who’d be on my side
At least then I could see my enemy
I’d rather know and see the devil
I’d rather swallow my blood
Than swallow my pride