I am seeking, what I am seeking I have yet no idea.
They tell me that I am slave and it is quite, quite rare.
Do they know or want to exploit me, get me the hell out of here.
Why do I stay, what can I say? I feel my time is drawing near.

One day it may reveal itself, this thing that I seek,
I have looked without, now I look within, can I dare stand to peek?
I see blood and pain and ravages of many lives that went before.
Yes it is slavery and I am their third generation daughter to reveal the true gore.

Late, late at night, he would tip into the quarters that he owned.
All of his property, who would be selected for the expected chore?
Would she be fresh, still a virgin or his favorite one?
The one who knew how to ease his pain and pacify him with her tongue?

She knew inside the Mistress detested her presence of her existence.
But she also wielded a weapon of greater passion and kept it secret to keep her family from extinction.
She had nothing that was hidden from him and he took all that she had.
It bonded them ironically, no masks, not so bad.

Years went by and slavery was no longer accepted.
Some Master killed all of their slaves in a final objection.
Others kept them on and managed the best that they could.
There were slaves who remained behind not knowing what else could they do.

The ones who seemed to benefit were his children, you know.
The ones that are not talked about but their skin colors do glow.
The bronzes, the golds, the tans and the beiges,
The wavy long hair that could make them pass any day.

So in a way this little gift still exist to this day.
Why were you promoted are you his, possibly?
When reflecting back upon the pain that is coming out of me,
Now I can see why I want him now, can't you even see?