A boy catches a glimpse of his fate
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In the bloodied face of his brother's corpse,
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Lying in the alley next to his house
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He's on his way to school,
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Well he's on his way to somewhere.
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Afflicted at the age of 5 with post-war syndrome,
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The stress of poverty causes brain damage,
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Such that he is robbed of his chance
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Of ever having true human relationships,
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It's a dog-eat-dog world out there,
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And he's been trained well.
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Avert your gaze,
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As the tragic heroes take the stage,
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Else you spy the cycle of the streets work out its rage.
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Cover your eyes before the final bow is exercised.
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There's no ovation at the end,
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Just a haunting sensation,
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That soon it will all happen again.
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Change the channel and this time we find
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A 7 year-old consequence,
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Of a pregnant alcoholic drug abuser.
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The effects of her actions on this child,
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Have left him with an almost supernatural anger,
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A hating desire to inflict pain.
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His adopting family is torn between
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Their love for him and their fear
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That one day he may try to take their lives.
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His brain is such that he can never escape,
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The fate his poor mother has left him with.
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At the age of 7 he already has a criminal record.
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Avert your gaze,
|
As the tragic heroes take the stage,
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Else you spy the cycle of the streets work out its rage.
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Cover your eyes before the final bow is exercised.
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There's no ovation at the end,
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Just a haunting sensation,
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That soon it will all happen again.
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And it does, again and again and again.
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Beware the ghosts that haunt this place!
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They are lurid flourishing spectres of fate.
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An aggregation of those who means were held,
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Beyond the realm where hungry fingers dwell
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In the grease slick shine of overpriced suits,
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A world unto itself, built for abuse,
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Of those! - Who are thrown into it
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Of those! - Mentally deficient
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Of those! - Who know no life but in it
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Of those! - Who are borne unto it!
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Avert your gaze,
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As the ghosts of poverty lay waste.
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The street is littered with fractured futures;
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Casualties we've no instrument with which to measure.
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Take your seats the lights are dimming now,
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The choir mourns as the curtain flees the ground.
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But we've seen this all before, we've just chosen to ignore!
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Avert your gaze,
|
As the tragic heroes take the stage,
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Else you spy the cycle of the streets work out its rage.
|
Cover your eyes before the final bow is exercised.
|
There's no ovation at the end,
|
Just a haunting sensation,
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That soon it will all happen again.
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-----------------
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Cycle Of The Streets
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| Thought Riot |
