When I tell you that you’re tall
That’s a fact, just how it is
But when I turn around and call someone short
Suddenly I am mean
And I have just insulted you
If I were to call myself white
I wouldn’t be a liar
And nobody would turn around and ask “What?”
Politely, as if they didn’t hear
And is giving me a chance to change whatever
Wrongdoing I said
But when I turn around and call you black
Well, that’s when it gets offensive
And I am racist
I call someone fat
And they’re reduced to tears
Then I turn around and call someone skinny
And they bask in my compliment
What makes these facts offensive?
I’m just telling the truth
Unless you’re blind
You can see it too
I ask a girl if she has a boyfriend
And she says yes and smiles
And I ask another
This time it’s a no, with a frown
At me, the girl, and the boyfriend in question
I want to ask why it matters
Just another person
There’s seven billion more of them
Out there
What makes these facts offensive?
I’m just telling the truth
And unless you‘re blind
You can see it too
Colors, shapes and sizes
Have suddenly become insults
I want to ask what makes an adjective
Bad or good
And why it decides
That’s how people should judge you
If you’re mean for pointing out facts
Where is the line drawn?
If I said clownfish are orange
Would they become offended?
Or would they just shrug and
Accept that that’s how they were invented?
People, people, people
Judging, judging, judging
I guess facts are just
One more thing society has corrupted.
