The choice, The choice, The choice
Location
You ask me if this was my choice, so I ask you the same
Excuse me, sir? Sir? When did you choose to be straight?
No please, come back, don’t walk away yet, wait,
Let me peel off this tape, better yet, I’ll change your fate
Let’s think for a second, hypothetically, this is a choice
So I would choose to be like millions? Getting beat for my voice?
I would choose to be angry? Since my breath is too much noise?
For these straight people to hear, secretly they too are queer
There is no hidden agenda, no hidden plan of rainbow take over
We clean your houses, patrol, and help you with your layovers
We fly over your head, look up and see us way over
How come when a girl kisses me, it’s only right if she’s not sober?
All I want to do sometimes, is look at your hate-filled life and pause it
Is our love really not worth more, than your filthy bank deposit?
Wallet filled with souls of suicides, was it worth it? Was it?
What if it was your daughter? Your son? Can we finally stop this?
So I’ll ask you what you asked me, when did you choose this life of hate?
When did the light in your soul burn out, were you seven or eight?
Or was it just last week? When you had to order porn by the crate?
Please, for our sake, burn all of the “lezzie porn” before you masturbate