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I am the reporter that had to live the story and now protect
his family from the rough edges of life on the wrong and right
side of the tracks; found little difference between the pain
shared and lived by all earthly members. Escape to drugs shot,
consumed, drank or thought. I am a better man but the cost is
not for my family. I try to stop the shame, meek are shot everyday
for living in a wrong place at the wrong time. Join me now as
we walk the pit and grime of life lived and died, no screams or
cries just a whimper as the lights go out.
It is cold in the dark night and the street gives up its ghost
I cry at the sight of little ones lost in the light a dying host
Which of you will hold my hand and understand the man
Shivers stop in the window and the mind is talking soft
Wind blows up the avenue carrying a part of old life
Kick a bit of reality party in the dawn nose on a knife
Ready made for the lasting rebel voice in the shade
Hear momma keeping the sound singing in the dark
Devil looking for a place to rest and finding only hell
Each doorway covered in a dirty face with a story to tell
She kept a little money in the jar I took it all not getting far
Sunshine warms the pavement as blend into the shadow of life
Home is the alleyways of the city and the home is a drive bye
Red flash is payment for a deal gone bad children dive and die
Little rest is kept in the window by the door a Sunday trip sent
Church bell tolls in the back ground a sound of pure faith love
It is cold in the dark night and the street gives up its ghost
I cry at the sight of little ones lost in the light a dying host
A gentle Hand finds mine and together we walk one more time
Headline: “All Is quiet. No one shot. No one died. City Lied”
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