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Step one is sign up
Enter, sign in, sit down,
Look around,
Meet your new best friends
Your new only friends
If your friends only knew
What it was you were to be
Maybe they could be one too
But it’s only you and them
Or rather you and us
Or rather you are us
And now you’re on the bus
With some strangers most disheveled
But the playing fields are leveled
And you’re just another face
With no store bought private space
And no members of your race
With their nervous looks and mace
What they fear is where you live
While they take, you learn to give
And you give until there’s none
And at first it’s kind of fun
But in time you feel the grind
And it starts to slow your mind
Yes in time you feel the grind
And it’s all that’s on your mind.
Now your class is about class
You’re the race that gets a pass
Now your class is about God
And all Faiths are truth and fraud
Now your class is about you
And those not so much like you
Or not like who you were
And not like who you are
And these two poles are far
But you must be something, right?
Or two somethings in a fight
Something dark and something light?
One part day and two parts night
Now for the gay you’d start a fight
Or for unions, poor or jailed
And your parents think they’ve failed
Cuz you’re cursing what they’ve hailed
And at first the fight is fun
But it’s clear no one has won
And again you feel the grind
On your heart and in your mind
Yes, again you feel the grind
From your heart to take your mind
Now it’s almost time to go
And you’ve got so much to show
But there’s no one who can see
Sorry, it’s not you, it’s me
It’s not you, my friends, it’s me
It’s not you, my church, it’s me
It’s not you, my love, it’s me
And for once, this me is real
And this real me is real real
Not that I know what I feel
Not that I know what I think
I just sit and stare, and blink
While the world slowly turns
People bleed and cities burn
And I feel that I’ve been freed
For the first time I can stand
But my body’s atrophied
And I’ll need a friendly hand
Is that where you come in?
Man who lived without a sin?
Do our scars distort my face?
Is this good, or greed, or grace?
All I know is that the grind
Owns my heart and soul and mind
Yes, the grinding, grating, grind
Holds my heart, and soul, and mind
And if that’s my cross to bear…
Then my life’s been more than fair
- Nate Smith, Fall ‘03
