Where Your Trash Goes
Have you ever talked to a dangerous man?
Someone with nothing to lose is never impressed
He knows you have something to protect
He knows your fears are stronger than being blessed
I think I want a tattoo
My white skin needs to tell another story
I want to tell someone what it means to commit to pain
I want to tell someone that I know nothing of glory
I want to feel the rawness of unpredictability
I want to know if I am afraid
I don’t understand the bravado of the rich side of town
They ignore the strength of those who carry a blade
They live by the fist fight
They lived to be killed one time only
They trust only the bond to their craziness
And they smile only in dreams where the streets are holy
We take pride in our ability to wage war
But are shocked by a profane man with black skin
I want to meet him and listen to him whisper
While the sheltered shout while they sin
The complications of sex and money on the streets
Are too much for a man who has it made
A rich man can never look a poor man in the eye
And a poor man will never know if he will be saved
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