In a school yard nation, in a playground tower A young jury sends a “villain” down the slide He is a child in exile, weeping in the wood chips A castaway turned leader of a growing tribe A secret hand shake, a new declaration Scraps from art class fold in to a flag A conflict out of context, a coffee-stained playbook The sense of yearning and a lesson in desire
There’s a fence in the desert somewhere There’s lines in the sea that are not to be crosse There’s a women living as a man There’s medicine in the weed There’s water on the moon There’s a private rocket ship heading there soon There’s a symphony in the streets There’s a gallon-bucket band in Carnegie Hall
An iridescent phone call plays slowly in my mind A clerk at a window caught you in a lie Yeah, I remember the crackling feeling in my heart Security cameras shook me apart I had a lot to learn about where I was from I had a lot to learn about forgiveness I had a lot on my mind
At least half of what I’ve done Maybe more of who I am Will be forgotten Won’t be remembered Like all the stories never told The digital lives scattered in code All of the footsteps that will never be traced The forgotten ways of an ancient raceTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
