We are all racists,
That man is white, she is red,
I'm dark, over there is blue;
Yet when it comes to Love, our analysis just slide,
And for once we will be right.

As the feeling pops-up and grows,
Our concerns just, fade away,
Like a man that, against the storm, rows,
But this time of course, he'll have his way,
Love don't care at all,
For your way, my way, their ways,
Cause it has its own lane.

Perhaps if we don't fight it,
If we don't push it, or delay it,
That could be a key to some peace,
In our lives, our homes and theirs too.
But not that we can defeat it,
Not that we can banish it,
For once let it consume us.

Even with the hatred that flies,
With the propaganda and lies,
No matter how time flies,
Love's line will never bend,
Even in the face of these turmoils,
Love don't care,
So far we allow it in.

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