My grandmother frequently talks of the good old days,
the days that she thought were lost in a maze
she speaks of the times when all was right
and only dancing happened at night.
She did not acknowledge the racist views
for racial slurs were high in their use
there was no need for help in my eyes
because racism did not exist, it was all but lies.
Racism was a thing of the past
not someting that should've last
but it mutates and starts a new track
because racsim decided to fight back
It fights to survive our so called justice
it sucks us down into the abyss
of things that we think are right
but are not, for those who've seen the light
my grandmother speaks of the good old days
the days that we thought were lost in a maze
but when one innocent young man lays
it appears we never left "the good old days"