Standing in the ruins
|
Of another Black man's life,
|
or flying through the valley
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They're separating day and night.
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"I am death," cried the Vulture.
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"For the people of the light."
|
|
Charon brought his raft
|
and came from the sea that sails on souls,
|
And saw the scavenger departing,
|
taking warm hearts to the cold.
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He knew the ghetto was the haven
|
for the meanest creature ever known.
|
|
In a wilderness of heartbreak
|
and a desert of despair,
|
Evil's carrion of justice
|
shrieks a cry of naked terror.
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He's taking babies from their momas
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and leaving grief beyond compare.
|
|
So if you see the Vulture coming,
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he's flying circles in your mind,
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Remember there is no escaping
|
for he will follow close behind.
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Only promised me a battle,
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battle for your soul and mine.
|
|
He taking babies from their momas
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And he's leaving
|
Leaving
|
Leaving
|
Leaving
|
Leaving
|
|
-----------------
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The Vulture
|
Gil Scott-Heron |