HOME

He's always invited in your home,
you let him eat at your table
like he's one of your own,
He's the kid next door,
Brent, your son's best friend,

one morning,
you wake up to three
gun shots and see Brent
on the floor, in front of his
home, the home where he
was born, a Capricorn,
with three holes in his chest
and a cop in a bullet proof vest
standing over him, his mother
yelling into her deepest depths,
tears in your eyes knowing
your son could be next,

and you raised him to be...
humble and kind...
humble and kind
...but...

society never draws a line,
the only thing that changes is time,
there's no need for death, to see hell,
happy endings are left on bookshelves,
but there are plenty of tickets
to the American show,
they let you sit front row,
to watch another brother go.