• Where is it writen that we have to change,
    From boy and girls to gentlemen and ladies?
    To stop thinking about those around us,
    But instead, of our mansions and Mercedes?

    Why is it called growing up,
    If you are just becoming small minded?
    We must put up our toys and open our eyes,
    From each other's color we were once blinded.

    When is it our turn to decide how to judge one another?
    Other than the whispers we hear from our parents,
    Who wrongfully accuse one another,
    For their own amusment.

    So if you could please, put the blindflod back on me, Mother.
    For I can not bare to see,
    My generation turn into the racist monsters
    It seems you want us to be.