Ole Mammy, I'm Still Blue

Click the link to The Top Pops moving song, "Ole Mammy Blue".

Wander, wander, wanderer true

I began looking as soon as one could see for you

Buses full of kids just like little me

Unloading children

Black as the night sea

Eyes looking down at the dry, cracked, dirt

White kids peeked from behind teacher's skirts

Desks rearranged

RULES were changed, no playdates,

Same food, different plates

Separate lunches

Same lines, different bunches

Too small to understand?

No, we knew this conniving plan

Madness was made by old men

Who swore to the red, white and blue

They told white people lies while we all watched the news

Vietnam live, tv trays with little pot pies

Little children listen to the whispers and cries

On the playground we mingled,

We met on the swings, we touched hands, skin and learned to sing

"You're pretty, your hair is the color of sand, you're so nice little "ma'am"

"Don't say that, never again! I am like you, always your friend!"

Wanderer, Wander, wanderer still

Life's a climb up a downward hill

Where are you friends 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, oh mammy, what have you done?

I never knew I wouldn't see you again

We were puppets of fools who built up this scam

DE-Segregation, a word we could not spell

We're still fighting for your daily hell

I live now in a faraway life; I'd still risk anything to lessen your strife.

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 proclaiming "we're 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, I am sorry it's not, my work to find you I have not forgotten.

Stupid haters 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 and Vietnam

I say your names in case you find me, Antoinnette, Joyce and tiny Sammy

May where you are be good for you

My little friends, I still love you true.