Here on the edge of hellStands Harlem—Remembering the old lies, The old kicks in the back,The old "Be patient"They told us before.
Sure, we remember.Now when the man at the corner storeSays sugar's gone up another two cents,And bread one,And there's a new tax on cigarettes—We remember the job we never had,Never could get,And can't have nowBecause we're colored.
So we stand hereOn the edge of hellin HarlemAnd look out on the worldAnd wonderWhat we're gonna doIn the face of whatWe remember.