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fresh2impr
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inspired by watching Jason’s Lyric on 06/04/06 at 2am[/i]
Lives wasted from futile conflict
People hustling yet still they can’t eat
Who do we blame?
God who created us
Or our parents who made us
In what ocean shall we continue to swim?
Oh the rigid turmoil of life
Slaving day and night
For the results we can’t seem to see
There’s pain in my heart
There’s hurt in my hand
Straining to touch that illusive beam
[i]I can hear the wailing in the Deep South
The church singing amidst the gun shots
The mother crying covered in her son’s blood
The raping husband who just can’t get enough
I can hear the wailing in the Deep South
Of the oppressed slave who knows no sun
Of the little children who have no one
Of the old woman who clutches her cross
To the suffering masses I say
With the incarcerated I pray
For the ones who knew no today
That One day its all going to be ok
The gangs rule the streets
While the people fear in their sleep
What sort of life is this?
Street rats become hood princes
By wielding the power of pistols
And corner stores guarded by hoochies
Poverty seems to be the norm
No jobs, no prosperity and run down homes
Society morale at an all time low
But in God lies hope
Of that ever distant tomorrow
Of which slowly but surely we will come to know
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