Where is the fire that turned guts into chitlins, that took rhythms and make jazz, that took sit-ins and marches and made us jump boundaries and barriers?
آتشی که از امعأ و احشای ما خوراک درست می‌کرد، که ضرب می‌گرفت و ما را به وجد می‌آورد که تحصن و تظاهرات می‌کرد و ما را وا می‌داشت تا از موانع عبور کنیم؟