Baby Brother

He was tall and thin, baby fuzz on his face.

No more bush, but a short fro.

It was 1978.

He was my baby brother, but they called him a black man.

Yea, he was 19 years old,

but just the other day,

 I gave him a bath and rocked him to sleep.

He was my baby brother.

But, they called him a black man. 

He was a dancer on roller skates

and Reggies Jackson in

the junior league.

No more toys for him,

 he chose Cardin and Valentino.

He was my baby brother,

But, they calle him a black man.

He wa a boy who loved the wind against his face in a fast car

and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to nibble on.

He was my baby brother.

But, they called him a black man.

What's going on........................

The world is in strife.

He's in a state of confusion:

love or sex, school or job, friend or enemy.

He was my baby brother.

But, they called him a black man.

I saw his face on T.V.

I read his name in the paper.

A bullet pierced his heart.

He was my baby brother,

But, they called him a black man.

Our father is sad, his only son's spirit flew away.

Tears stain the face of the woman who gave him birth.

My sister and I race the highway looking for his lost soul.

They said a black man is dead.

He's no man.

He's my baby brother.