Seeds of innocence scattered
And dreams never remembered,
But the eyes of the children still believe
In happy endings.
There was blood on the street
This morning,
The villain,
Like a shadow in the night
Offers warning;
No hope on the evening news.

The artists of a dead generation,
Display their wares
On the Spring Street Bridge,
No heroes known,
In their homes
All alone,
No father in the dark of night.
And the drums on the street
Sound warning,
As the legions assemble
In the mist,
The hearts of the mothers
Are broken,
No blessings
When they cash in their chips.

Meanwhile…
The rappers fuel the rage
Against whitey, and the nemeses of the night.
Off the man,
Who don’t understand,
Or more,
Who just don’t care!

I watched the man as he was dying,
Teardrops on the side of his face,
Family in the waiting room crying,
With enemies in the parking lot,
Howling;
Hurling obscenities
Into the night.

What happened on the streets of Eden,
No flapjacks on the table in the morn?
Where are the rules
That said ‘be home by dinner’,
And who is in bed
When I’m afraid of the storm?
Why is my brother’s name different,
And our grandmas aren’t the same,
Why am I angry in the light,
And cold at night,
And where is my family…
Where is my family…
Tonight?

Rage is what I feel
Tonight!
Anger is my companion
In the morning light.
My brothers are dying
Both here and away,
And no ballads
Record the tragedy.
Tinted windows obscure the enemy,
Faceless killers
In the driving rain.
The pounding rhythm,
And angry lines,
Induce fear and rage.
It is combat on the streets
Tonight,
Like yesterday and tomorrow too,
It is an illusion
To dream of a future,
With blood on the streets
At dawn.