Yes, my friends, I can rap in your streets
I can pierce my ears with the grit of your ghettos
Born to the wars of the tongue-tied tenants
Tigris Euphrates inheritance of breath
by blood the nation my cradle and foes
watching it now from a far-flung shore
watching now your discount war
fought by word, of a part
in my name
send tanks for the honor of tearing my veil
not here in this city a field less worthy
nor here in the city a soil less rich
Birmingham City I’d take you to the trenches
not for the sheiks to tell me my rights
nor Bush to remind me
the knowledge misplaced
Here in the city I plant down my feet
you can write no map on the flesh of my body
nor flags on my skin
hadith on my womb
like home like breath my Birmingham child
let no man cite
for Crusade, my name
for God Almighty
knows the length of my hair
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