Verse 1 Yeah, oh oh yeah I stood up in a support group, Said, “Folks, I’ve got to come clean.” The room got awfully disturbingly quiet, Like they’d never heard such a thing. I said, “No need to panic, This ain’t what you think. I’m only prejudiced against One little elitist waxy stick.” Pre-Chorus I loved that Brick Red, Black framed every line. Burnt Sienna stole my little heart, Yellow made the sunshine. Blue the oceans and sky hues But there was one I couldn’t stand… The Whitey Chorus Yeah, I’m a White Crayola racist, Since the age of six That Smooth White never showed up, Always pulled the same old tricks. On white paper it was invisible, On colors it fell flat. It hogged the space another crayon I would’’ve gladly used abused So yeah, I’m a White Crayola racist… And I’m trying to heal from that. Verse 2 Open up a kid’s old crayon box, Go ahead take a look. Every color’s worn to nub nothing, Except that spotless little rook. Factory point still standing, Its pencil neck never even scarred. That White was drawing unemployment In the coloring school yard. Pre-Chorus Black gave shadows, Brick Red gave brick. Forest Green made mighty trees— White just called in sick. Chorus I’m a White Crayola racist, Confessing every crime. I discriminated daily, One coloring page at a time. I never hated the Browns or the Blacks, Or the Reds along the way. I only had a lifelong feud With that ghostly stick of clay. Bridge Then Crayola shrunk some boxes, Left White sitting on the shelf. I thought, “Well, look who’s getting canceled… How’s that feel yourself?” Maybe every lonely crayon Needs a second chance somehow… Though I’m still not feeling it That white just ain’t right. Final Chorus I’m a White Crayola racist, But here’s the twist you see. The joke was never people The joke was always me. ’Cause sometimes all our childhood grudges Sound ridiculous out loud. Turns out I spent thirty years Arguing with a floating cloud. So here’s to Brick Red, Black, and Blue, Every shade beneath the rainbow of hues And if Smooth White finally gets picked… It’ll probably be To draw the snow… And then it’s done. Outro One last question before I go… Do you know what product Whitey’s fear the most? White-Out.
