Recidivist

Three strikes you're out in the old ballgame One strike'll do in the new The crack of the bat on the heads of a few Won't make a dent on you Turn the black to blue It's the old soft-shoe, the new Jim Crow The recidivist's lament Break up the earth, roll the new cement Around the feet of men Make 'em pay the rent Writing the words of your alibi Leads you to question if your truth is their lie Tomorrow will come, but it'll still be the night Until we get it right A cold set of claws on a wrist rubbed raw Claimed in the name of the law Pain pays for pleasures of men Whose paws shake your hand Whose gods work for them And whose jobs are at odds with innocence A time's gonna come, so they say in the songs The burden of proof will put the beast where it belongs The morning will come but it won't be the dawn Until we right our wrongs