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From cloaks of midnight black tars becomes the resting place of falling stars
Reduced to crystal shards that leave falling children nicked and scarred
Pavements hard admist rasict cars of blue and white lights of fire and ice
Fortune through small jars behind steel bars dieing to live?........no were dieing for LIFE!!
Loss of sight for the have nots those who got and have nothing for what they have
So as times are bad in the Valley of Darkness we dream of the light that we once had
Hungry as dark wraiths accross our minds crushing our spines strangling the surface of sane thought
Women fallen like lucifers angels sell thier spirts with thier bodys as thier frames are bought
Abandoned buildings like haunted houses.......inside the place of the ghettos lost souls
The hauntings of our streets as well......loss has killed thier warmth and left them lost in the cold
Smell of burnt flames old spilled intoxicants staining cement paths of destruction
Buildings slanted collapsing like avalanches of stone and bricks steadied by cracked wooden crutches
Thunder on clear days void of clouds in crowds under the suns warming beams
Our Generals are O.Gs of colorfull flags with a urge to kill and destroy all opposing teams
Stones on our necks dirtyed with the blood of slaves who die in the darkest holes of caverns
So My Home is a cyclone.........a place spinning uncontrolled anger and violence in a endless pattern
