I was told that my music taste was eclectic
No sorry
I was told it didn't fit in
That
The songs I liked were weird and
No one knew them
See I hoard music
I lock it tight down inside
I add laser sensors to trigger an alarm for anyone who gets too close
You see
I read somewhere that
The type of music you like is linked to the heartbeat of your mother
From when you were in her womb
So now you mother fuckers better respect my headphones
You see
My mother and me have always been bound by music
It's the umbilical cord the nurse forgot to sever
It pulls between us and
You don't
Get to touch it
You don't get it
My mum will hum along to my chemical romance with me
See she listens to sleeping with sirens on her way to work
I can't imagine my life without Whitney Houston's brilliance or Toni Braxton's power
When my mother calls me a useless tramp
I cocoon myself with the memory of finding Janelle Monae with her
Listening to tightrope on repeat until we were both tired of it
I call forth the sun of the days where we'd listen to Nina Simone
You can't handle my rhythm let alone my blues
Boo my mother cheered me on through me trying to sing Beyoncé
She mouths to me the superstitions of Stevie Wonder
Keep your fucking hands off my tunes
See a black mother will deal with the pain of the world and internalise it
She hides it in the silence between each heartbeat
Then she will birth a child from the world and give them the magic
To hear her pain in the tempo of a track
See I have the melanin of all of our mothers mother
How powerful is the heart of a black woman
That it gave us music
(Middle) See I don't care what you say about my music tastes
I know they're strong
I know there beautiful
I know they're painful
I know they're loud
My mother gave them to me