You can hear the drums beating in the stands,
Pounding out the chant of a thousand hands,
From a lost generation that’s been hurt to much,
When we came out we were holding a crutch,
They tell us that where living in better times,
Tell that to the tears rolling from our eyes,
From drugs to guns we have seen it all,
When there was peace I can’t recall,
Every morning I wake to go to school,
To learn arithmetic and the golden rule,
The big teacher always thought us right from wrong,
But on the playground right never lasted long,
You see I learned more about reality,
Getting kicked around and bloody-kneed,
I spend my life curled in a ball,
My hand broken from punching the wall,
I tried to cry but the tears never came,
Dig your nails deeper it’s all the same,
I was so filled with hate by the age of twelve,
That into my heart I dear not delve,
Every night I ask the stars above,
“Don’t let me forget how to love”,
Right and wrong shift like the breeze,
When your living your life on your knees,
I took my justice in my hands,
Because teacher wasn’t there to make my stand,
Though I was punished I know not why,
Right then I had to fight back or die,
But now where through living in your world,
Consider this the first stone hurled,
We’re not letting life stay this way,
To many have hurt to many have paid,
You’ve been deaf for far to long,
Even though you knew the truth all along,
But I ask you world,
Can you heard the once-soft chorus is growing clear. |
