There is no blank slate

No blank slate here

So where do I begin

Where do I begin

There is blood there is dirt on the hands of the men that I want to love

So where do I begin

And how do they fit in

Oh no don’t go

You’re a symbol now but you can be so much more

But I have found that if it’s sleep

That I look for, look for I won’t find it here

There is rain there is rain that I can barely fathom

Their fate is in the hands, those dirty bloody hands

So they pray and the vote and they hope that their fate is good

That the man will be all he said he’d be that their sons will see all they want to see

Oh no don’t go

You’re a symbol now but you can be so much more

But I have found that if it’s sleep

That I look for, look for I won’t find it here

I won’t find it here, no I won’t find it here

I won’t find it here, no I won’t find it here