I was struck by lightning.
Not as a figure of speech; I was literally struck by lightning.
It smells like a hospital on fire,
like the cleanest smoke you can imagine,
like spring water pulled apart by the atoms.
It smells like recycled air on a airplane crashing.
What are the odds? It didn’t give me superpowers,
so I guess I got to take my chances

with small talk, weather reports and high traffic,
with time clocks, and time bombs, and time passing.
When I’m not here any more will my planet
even notice my absence?
I swear, some days are like carvin’ your name into the capitol
with just your fingernails while the politicians laugh at you,
and some days are worse.
I want to leave a legacy so you’ll remember me for more than this verse, please:

hold your applause.
Hold it forever.
There is so much that keeps us apart,
and so little that holds us together.
But whatever that is we’re going to need it.
It’s going to get worse before it gets better.
And it only gets better when we do better.
And we only do better when we fuse together, yes:

there is no progress without struggle,
whether you’re a activist or just a kid in some trouble.
A student graduating with debt, a single mother distressed,
A little brother repressed, dripping the sun as it sets
into a habit hidden under the bed,
while four walls echo something I said;
when dark clouds gather, remember to just fight back;
not everyone can be touched or struck like that

and survive.
But you did.
You still got a spark inside,
so use it.
See, I’ve learned a little bit about energy.
I’ve learned when it enters you, it loses charge.
So the negative and positive are worth the same amount:
the passion and the pain, the smiles and the scars.

Whether you lost your job or won the lottery,
that energy enters you like a lightning bolt,
and no matter how dark its origin,
once it’s inside you, it’s yours to control.
So what this means, is that those
who’ve been through the most have the most to let go.
There is strength in our anger, power in our pain,
even beauty in the hourglass’ grains.

It all depends on how we use it.
Some people make music. Some people make excuses.
Some people make enemies. Some make-believe.
Some people make the most of every tragedy.
And me, well I just want to make a scene.
Ain’t going to patiently wait for my pain to bury me.
Ain’t going to waste all this energy chasing popularity
or prosperity; I’d rather stand tall in solidarity

with everyone we’ve lost, because they’re never lost,
and every one of y’all who stay forever strong,
and we’ll build basslines out of thunder,
rap to the rhythm of the rain, and dance on the little bit of space
that we have and build something lasting
as the empire’s collapsing.
And when they ask me to come along quietly,
I’ll say how can I quit? I got lightning inside of me.

Chastity Brown:
I was there, I confess
Wind was shakin’
time was movin’
ever slowly; I was there
on the floor, saw the door,
grabbed the page, wrote some more,
found the rage, wrote a score;
I was there when lightning broke
I was there when lightning broke