| Old North StateWhere I come from | | | | goodbye |
| The grass is very soft | | | | he did not |
| Mama's homemade wine is strongWhere I come | | | | look backHe did not |
| from | | | | care to think |
| The train tracks divide the town | | | | himself selfish |
| Like the Great Wall of ChinaWhere I come from | | | | while sitting in |
| White and black folk are kin | | | | the bathtub |
| But they don't speak of this proud lineageWhere I | | | | unconscious |
| come from | | | | nor did he worry |
| We scream and scream | | | | about all those left |
| And we scream some moreWhere I come from | | | | behind to deal |
| There are no queers, since | | | | with his decisionHe was bold and brave |
| Kinfolk like me best in CaliWhere I come from | | | | he did not |
| Whites pity blacks | | | | waiver |
| Mothers pity unmarried daughters | | | | clear and decisive |
| Fathers pity unruly sons andWhere I come from | | | | till the end whenBob said goodbyeONE |
| Everyone loves and hates queersBob Said | | | | DAY-Ramekon O'ArwistersDragging your long wavy |
| GoodbyeAnd this time he meant itNo, not waiting | | | | hairDown my face, tingling asThe ends touch my |
| nor wanting God, | | | | skinDown toward my chestDown, down still |
| family, or friends | | | | furtherYour face hidden in my lapYour hair now a |
| to come to | | | | mountainHow round andSmooth the peakHow |
| the rescueThere was but one solutionsBob said | | | | perfect the slopeHow happy I am |