Blood on the Streets

There’s blood on the street

And in my hair

And on my hands and on my feet

Must I repeat the gravity

And there’s no point in coming clean

And shedding light

It benefits you to claim that you were right

I hope you know I’m taking notes

oOOOoooooooOooOOOOOoooo

There’s only death up ahead

It’s all I see

From the prayers made in my bed

Or am i asleep and is this a dream

And are these things not what they seem?

Could I be wrong

An honest man

Persecuted all along

But no. This is the truth? It’s breaking news

Our poor mother

oOOOoooooooOooOOOOOoooo

Lay me with my mother

So that she would know I loved her

We don’t have to blame each other

We are underground

Ghosts, white collared ghosts

With their white ties

And their white coats

Will lie right to our eyes

And say they tried

For our fathers