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well they ask me why I’m so sore,
they tell me racism ain’t a problem no mo’,
they tell me that,
they tell me this,
sayin’ it’s a new world,
they tell me to bask in a state of bliss,
but i ain’t cool,
i don’t buy the drool,
cos’ I’m talkin’ post-racial blues,
walk awhile in my ragged shoes,
wearing my happy face,
jus’ tryin’ to make it in this godawful rat race,
so don’t be tellin’ this,
quit tellin’ ’bout all that jazz,
cos’ I’m sick ‘n’ tired,
of the sterile razzmatazz,
cos’ I’m talkin’ post-racial blues,
fallin’ deeper as i ramble in my ragged shoes,
don’t be tellin’ me about the post-racial status-quo,
cos’ I’m sick ‘n’ tired of the whole damn show,
yeah, I’m talkin’ the post-racial blues … … …