Where are our fathers?
They won't even bother to care for their loved ones,
Won't kiss them or hug them.
So mother is left bearing kids on her back
To make a new track cause their daddy was wack.
And I tell you now as a man who is black
Calling out to those left back.
I am conveying a story,
Of a son without glory,
With a father who was vapory,
Looking up to mother for his history,
For his manhood remains a mystery.
In this place called the USA
Black manhood was destroyed by slavery.
This leaves the son in quite a predicament.
See, God never meant for fathers to circumvent
Bring up a child in the way he will go
For when he is old, he will know where to sow;
Into the next generation, for every nation
To see in in proper veneration
Fathers in the recreation of the art which was once lost;
And we still wait for it to be restored,
But we so blatantly ignore
The problem from day to day
As we get caught up in making our way.
Fathers! Fathers! I just want to make sure.
Where is yours?