https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Hq24-fdUjfA

Wander wander wanderer

She began looking as soon as she could see for
Buses Full of Kids just like littleme
                  Unloading Children
                Black as the night sea 
Eyes lookin' down at the dry cracked dirt 
       white kids peeked from behind teacher's skirts
Desks rearranged
 RULES         Changed       No Playdates, 
Same food, different plates
Separate for lunches
                      Same Lines  
Different Bunches
                         Too small to understand? 
Naw
           WE KNEW 
              Madness was made by ole men 
                   who wore red, white and blue
They told white people lies while we watched the news
Vietnam live, TV trays asn' little pot pies
Little children listen to whispers and cries
On the playground we mingled, 
                  We met on the swings, we touched hands, skin and learned to sing
"You pretty, your hair is the colour of sand, you're so nice little "ma'am"
"Don't say that, never again! I am like you, always your friend!"
Wander
Wander, Wanderer Still
Life's a climb Up a downward hill
Where are you girls, from the merry-go-round, where are the people who let us all down?
Across the room I was pulled away, told to wait inside as you parted that day
End of school, 
                      Nashville sun full
I'd never see you again
We were puppets of fools who built the scam
                   DE-Segregation, a word we could not spell
                            YOU 'RE still fighting your daily hell
I live in a faraway life; I'd still risk anything to be by your side.
Causes now, were causes then, oh my what I'd give to bring this to an end
                     Shootings Shouting Dying Alone
Black America is still my HOME.  
My skin doesn't match but I was there when
 we hugged one another, "we best friends"
we touched each other's hair and shared from the start, pulled off the labels 'cause we were smart
 It was supposed to be better! Will it ever be that we can find each other and write long letters?
Stupid southern haters, baiters that catered to leaders,
make believers, nothing was real then or now
we were not IN-TE-GRATED
we were used, smoked and baited
put together like N'awlean's blues
Ole mammy, mammy blue
little us, little you
in grade three, cutting out snowflakes for the Christmas tree
It was a sham, just like pot pies an' Vietnam
I say your names in case you find me, Antonnette, Joyce and tiny Teena
May where you are be good to you
My little friends, I still love you