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Shane Koyczan & The Short Story Long
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This Is My Voice
Shane Koyczan and the Short Story Long
This is my voice
There are many like it
But this one if mine
And its a fine line
When you try and define the finer points of politics
Politics being a latin word
Poly meaning many
And Tics meaning blood sucking butt lumps
See, too many live in countries where its
Bullets instead of ballots
Where gavels fall like mallets
When held in the hands of those
Whose judgements can be bought
As easily as children can be taught to covet
And the only ones willing to speak up
Are forced to live
So far under the radar
That the underground is considered above it
This is for the Ho Chi Mins
And the Michaels Colins
For the Marques De Sades
And the muted gods
This is my voice
There are many like it
But this one is mine
-- We're not always
Right, but we've got the right to be wrong
We're not always free
So this is just a short story long
This is my voice
there are many like it
but this one is mine
and this time it's for the sons and daughters
who watch their mothers and fathers
drown in shallow waters while
panning for the 'American dream'
in the polluted creek called the mainstream
This is for the homeless people
sleeping on steam vents
making makeshift tents
out of cardboard and old trash
trying to catch 40 winks
in between the crash of car wrecks
risking their necks by surviving another day
so that they can starve
so that famine can carve their body into a corpse
before their heart stops beating
so that men in a boardroom meeting
can make it harder for them to get welfare, health care,
it's no wonder some of them pawn off their own wheelchair
and every time I walk 'em by
I can't help but feel at fault
that maybe I didn't search myself hard enough
for the control alt 's'
so that I could save the world
Or at least this little girl
curled up into a ball
I've spent most of my life throwing compassion back
like a fish that's too small
Gotta cash in my reality checks
drop her some spare fantasies
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cause I've got three separate degrees
from different universities,
but the most valuable thing I ever learned
was to believe people when they say 'Please.'
This is my voice,
there are many like it,
but this one is mine.
()
You ever been real,
been reamed out,
picked on, put down,
ever been ever been rowdy at the sound
when your own heart breaks,
not to take the time, to take the time
ever been seen and not heard,
you ever blurred the lines for those who tried
to find some way to define what you are,
as if you were far from them,
at least at the heart of them its more than a part of them.
you ever been told you're too young or too old,
and there's always that line
when you're willing to walk by,
and you gotta receive and then beat the deadlines
so don't try to define us cause this time we' re fine.
so don't try to define us cause this time we're fine.
so don't try to define us cause this time we' re fine.
We're pissed and we're loud and now you know why.
()
Don't tell me there are no heroes
This is for them, the women and the men.
For Helen Keller who against all odds found a voice.
For the choice Veronica Guerin made.
For Martin Luther King who stayed just long enough
to share a dream with us.
This is for that day on the bus for sister Rosa Parks.
This for the Joan of Arcs who believe
even in the face of sparks becoming flame.
The political game that Louis Riel refused to play
This is for the day the Dalai Lama finally goes home
For Dr. Jeffrey Wigand who alone stared down big tobacco
For Nelson Mandela who continues to go the extra mile
This is for the trial that finally found a man
guilty of shooting Medger Evers dead.
This is for everything Malcolm X said,
remembered by athletes who left the Olympics double-fisted
For Arthur Miller,
blacklisted for calling a witch hunt what it was
For Galileo locked up because he said the earth was round
For the Two Live crew who found the sound that got them banned in the USA.
And imagine if we could still hear John Lennon play.
This is for the someone who stood up today and said, 'No!'.
For Edward R. Murrow who shut down McCarthy.
For Salmon Rushdie, Mahatma Ghandi,
You, me, this city, this country.
We will always have a choice.
When you stand up to be counted.
Tell the world,
This is my voice,
There are many like it,
but this one is mine
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