the heat you can see rising
on the horizon
the sun hot.
the sons hot.
and all the daughters keep flooding the block
alone and in despair,
they screaming out
for the laws to stop killing their
in the middle of the street.
it’s war in the middle west and the middle east. it’s baking hot in the sun
we been chilly all fall long.. watch the buildings fall down on to the ground
the bricks tumble
and everybody got a crackhead cousin
waiting to pick up the pieces. ((you want a drink?))
we drinking over here… we in mourning