Amy martin

Soul food

Amy martin
I pray to a big black woman
With kind eyes and a wise smile
She says, "Honey, I'm gonna beat your butt
If you don't grow up and stop thinking like a child."

But me I just can't stop askin'
If I'm good enough, if I'm worthy of love
She just puts her hands on her big ol' hips and says,
"Well girl, what do you think?"

She's giving me a pot of greens, spicy wings
Home-cooked soul food
She gives me tough love, the real stuff
God's touch, soul food

But I say, can't you see I'm starving
Living on the same old pain, day after day
She says, well, I'm sorry, darling
But you can't leave the table 'till you finish the plate

I've cooked up a loving helping
Of everything you truly need
But it's up to you to learn the lessons
Call 'em curses or blessings, but you still gotta eat

Then she pulls me to her bosom
She kisses my head, and strokes my hair
She says, "Child, I would love to fix it for you
But we both know, it just wouldn't hold."

"But girl, the world is waiting
For you to step up and show your stuff.
I'm counting on an invitation
On the day you decide to serve me up…"

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