when the world comes to an end
and it’s pouring war and rain
maybe then you will realize
that you and me, we’re just the same.
maybe my skin is pale, or it’s not
or maybe i think i’m gay, or i’ve fought
battles and cried and begged for my rights
maybe i can’t forget the sights
of my family, done away with, one by one
for praying to a different god, for praying to none.
maybe i’m non-binary, maybe i’m trans
maybe for the future, i had my own plans
maybe i wore a dress too short
maybe the rapist never got caught.
whatever it was, today you’ve won
standing here with my head against a gun.
but when the world comes to an end
and it’s pouring war and rain
maybe then you will realize
that you and me, we were the same.
