Blood stains remain on my back.
Pain sustained from the whip's crack.
Tears pour down like rain
on faces that are Black.
This isn't dressed up
I tell it plain.
It isn't the chains that keep me enslaved.
I'm a prisoner of love in this heat
Bound by these chains from the head to the feet
My knees weak for what I seek, can't cope
For love has me shackled and chained under its yoke
I seek skin black, lips, thighs, and hips intact
My sprite is lynched, a burning so deep
For the pleasure that comes, between two, with sleep
This ain't no joke, yo we tell it plain
Two prisoners of love, hooked, shackled, and chained.