There's no place like home,
but what happens when home is dead?
When the young men are state property and doing bids?

When the women are raising the kids?
When the buildings are missing like the dope fiends teeth?

The city is crying for change.

The fiends strip the metal from the vacant houses in exchange for .55$ a pound of change,
just to run right back to the block to get a hit,

a pipe dream,

we used to have so much pride and energy.

The city is crying, begging, and pleading,
for all the dreamers to roll up their sleeves and return with their gifts to give.

The horn has been sounded and the call has been made,
the only way a community can grow and thrive,
is if the people invest in it and believe.

Despite the opposition and hate,
it's our responsibility to make home a safe place.

Home is where the heart is,
let's get busy rebuilding the gate.