His-Story

[Intro: Scott SK Miller]
Yo, okay
I really don't know what to say right now
Just listen
Just listen, okay
Yo

[Scene 1: Scott SK Miller]
Imagine this: it's August 6th, 1945
Matsumoto Hitoshi was 15 at the time
The war was raging; the planet was spinning crazy
Little did he know the Little Boy was invading
Through the sky it travelled on a crash course with history
Scissoring through fate til that fateful fall at 8:15
He lost everything; all his family perished in an instant
Instantly vaporized to memories
See his home is Hiroshima, Itschukatchi
Near the cross-hairs, man it's frightening
I say, "Hiroshima", and you know why, precisely
But the river runs deep. Follow me; this is just the first scene

[Interlude]
"A short time ago, an American airplane droppеd one bomb on Hiroshima, and destroyed its usеfulness to the enemy"

[Scene 2: Scott SK Miller]
Fast-forward: not sure how the man survived
But now he's grown, four kids, and a wonderful wife
Got a life built on heartache and hard work
Rarely speaks on the past; God knows the scars hurt
But he still stands like the city itself
Buried in the ashes, but the spirit is well
From the concrete, life brings a new day
Till his daughter brings home a man from U.S.A
How could they understand or tolerate decisions made
An entire race connected to his inner pain
His wife won't allow relationships so blasphemous
Tells her daughter "there's no way you can marry Americans
That's just the way it is, so sorry, but it can't happen."
Tears fall, dreams shattered

Then Hitoshi does something I'll never understand
Reaches to his daughter and says, "If you love this man
His race shouldn't matter. He wasn't born then
Never-mind my past. The future is important."
This kind o' sympathy I can't begin to comprehend
His daughter's overjoyed, and soon marries the American

[Instrumental]

[Scene 3: Scott SK Miller]
They took flight overseas to start their family
With reminders of the history so vividly
Amid the energy of negativity, seeds were blossoming
Like the cherry trees—sakura no ki
Two boys: the offspring of the love once frowned upon
Remainders of the 6th, when they dropped that bomb
And now this is where my story comes into play
'Cause the daughter is my mother, so that day affects my fate
Now my grandpa's passed. The city has forgiven
But my generation has its own epidemic
The fuckin' hate I see on a day-to-day
I can't relate 'cause I wouldn't be alive if he spread his pain
All I see is retaliate, and fight of race
Who should marry who, "God" this, and "I hate gays"
Why do you care which religion they praise to?
On that note, how does what I think affect you?
Why does it offend you? The type of love inside
Why can't we learn from each other? Always gotta fight?
I don't know who's right, but I don't need to be
You can be you, and I can be at peace that we disagree
But find a harmony; to me it sounds easy
Lookin' back at my past, I can see who I should be
Where I strive for, probably what I write for
'Cause from that bomb came a life-force, and much more
That I need to learn; sort through the rubble
Outside your own bubble the path can get muddled
But it never hurts to at least attempt to understand
My stories from Japan, but the river runs deep
Thank you, Hitoshi; hope your message doesn't stop at me