With the absence of our history
We created our past
Out of blanket tents
And gang signs
These were our graffiti murals
Proclaiming that we existed
We come from . . .
Papers that prove
I'm proud of the heritage that lies in the timbre of my voice
I scream long forgotten ancestral songs
Translate legacies into accents
Into this language that you can understand
'Cause this is where I'M from
I live down the block, across the state, past the river
Inhaled American air in my first breath
I speak English in my dreams, out loud
Lies in the depth of my parents' arms
Outstretched to their history
And the one we share in this country
So tell me where are YOU from?
Where are you REALLY from?