I don’t want to be a good girl, prim and proper and perfumed; don’t want to clean-up, straighten-up, or shut-up. I don’t want to be a Barbie doll bent and posed in postures of perfection; don’t want my smile and Happy painted-on. I don’t want to learn a new language elusive, exclusive; don’t want no secret code. I don’t want to sit inside walls unseen, fed, caged, protected; don’t want to be included, excluded or secluded. I don’t want to rise to a lofty place high on airs; don’t want to wear a ‘members-only’ sign. Let me never forget who I was, where I came from, what I’ve done. Let me stay down. Let me stay dirty. We could do it, you know, you and I. We could get down-right down and dirty. Let’s you and I, let’s go together. Let’s break from these walls and right on out the door, leaving our pride and our fear and our shoes behind. Let’s go barefoot. Let’s go open and bare and raw. Let our scars show. Let the dust settle on our skin. Let’s you and I, let’s go out and mingle with madness, poverty, despair. Let’s break bread with the broken. Let’s sit with Lonely, sleep with Sadness. Let’s you and I, let’s kneel down and wash the feet of another. Let’s get kindness caught under our nails, mercy tangled in our hair. Let’s get stained by sacrifice. And when we rise let our knees wear the marks of our proclamations. When we rise, let’s all rise, together, our hearts wearing the marks of His love.