Mortal Man
A Dream
by: Ty Greenwood
I dreamed a dream lately
That they really see me,
That they really feel me,
That they won’t forget me
That they won’t kill me
Can you even hear me?
I dreamed a dream lately
That I truly matter
My Black life matters
That they don’t hate me, the Black rooted in me
That they learn to like me and appreciate me
(Yeah)
I can’t see what they see, but I know it’s not me
I gotta get this degree and be all that I can be
See, I can’t look back and say “what if”, FUCK THAT
I can’t look back and be stiff, FUCK THAT
Their conspiracy, I am the victim of subjectivity
It’s clearer lately, they’ll try to break me
Then turn around and praise me
I hope they really see me and that they don’t forget me
Please don’t kill me
I dreamed this dream lately
(Yeah)
I dreamed this dream lately
I wrote this with one of my best friends, Passion, during our final semester of undergrad. I just heard the beat and then I started thinking about what I wanted to say. “I dreamed this dream lately,” came to mind. At the time I was directing my own original play, “This Kind of HATE,” which centered on issues of police brutality, race, interracial relationships, politics and media. It seemed like almost every other day there was something on the news about a young Black person being killed or beaten by the police. Part of this is where my inspiration came from to write my verse on the track. I began to think about all the dreams those Black people must have had and how they would never get a chance to see them come true. How the world never really got to see who they were. I feel in ways this was a cry out of anger, pain and hope.
Passion and I would often sit in the studio and reflect on the fact that we were two young Black kids from “the hood” that were about to graduate from college...something that statistically tells us that we wouldn’t. Talking about how far we had come never got old. All of the late nights and early mornings were worth that moment when our name was read and we walked across that stage to be handed our degree. Lord knows it wasn’t an easy road by any means. My first year, I wanted to transfer from Washington & Jefferson College (W&J), but two mentors of mine, Auntie Ketwana Schoos and Devan Carrington convinced me to stay and promised to have my back over the next three years. If it wasn’t for them I’m not sure I would’ve stayed. I can say I’m glad I did. My four years at W&J were definitely some of the best years of my life. I accomplished more than I could have ever imagined I would. Knowing I left a mark, a legacy and an impact on the campus reassured me that I had something to give to the world.