Birds of a feather flock together

But beads of a strand all will stand

In a way that love can intervene

The flawlessness of your love so clean

Although i know God is listening

I seem to only hear the voice inside my head that screams

Everytime I see another young black has been shot

By a cop or trot who has not forgotten

About slavery and the times we spent in shakles 

While they were out celebrating our struggles

As Christians we should not look down on others

Though it may seem hard while they look down on our young black brothers

-The Voice