Sometimes I wonder
What to say to you now in the soft afternoon air as
You hold us all in a single death
I say: Where is your fire?
I say: Where is your fire?

You got to fight it and pass it on
You got to find it and pass it on from you to me
From me to her from her to him from the son to the father
From the brother to the sister, from the daughter to the mother

From the mother to the child
I say: Where is your fire?
I say: Where is your fire? Can't you smell it?
Coming out of our past

The fire of living not dying
The fire of loving not killing
The fire of blackness not gangster shadows
Where is our beautiful fire that gave light to the world?

The fire of pyramids
The fire that burned through the hulls of slave ships
And made us breathe
The fire made guts into chitterlings

The fire took rhythms and made jazz
The fire sit-ins and marches that made us jump boundaries and barriers
The fire that took street talk and
Sounds and made righteous impulse tech raps

Where is your fire, the torch of life
Full of Nzinga and Nat Turner and Gandhi and Dubois
And Fannie Lou Hamer and Martin and Malcolm and Mandela
Sister, sister, sister, brother

Brother, brother, come, come, come, come, come
Catch your fire, don't kill
Hold your fire, don't kill
Learn your fire, don't kill
Be the fire, don't kill

Catch the fire and burn with eyes that see our souls walking, singing
Yeah building, laughing, learning, yes loving, yes teaching, being
Hey hey hey hey hey young young young brother
Hey hey hey young young young young sister
Here is my hand, catch the fire
And live, live, live, live, live, live, live, live