Chalk another up to the disbelievers
I’ve got no time for statistics
or numbers
with the rapists and redrums and the duldrums being dulled down
by prison guards, prison wards, lasers, tasers, drugs and dogs
I’m not so sure we’re taking the time
for anything genuine
in the form of repentance, Love or God
and I’m not so sure we need any of the above…
Chalk another up to the disbelievers
chalk another down on the street in outline
their grand little trucks with their gloves and their hoses
and elegant little yellow sponges
<< reference to body clean up crews on the streets of Baltimore who hose blood into the gutters after a murder, and the body fluid clean-up kits on board PG County school busses>>
no-one’s blood is safe on the streets
the gutters are belly growling
the gutters are belly hungry
they’re asking for blood
they’re asking for meat
whoever heard of a vegan street?
and I was afraid of that,
people soo angry at the Establishment
It’s the MAN It’s the MAN It’s the MAN It’s the MAN!!!
Well, killing him was part of my plan.
One set back
set the killer back
out on the streets with a twelve-step plan
and a twelve-guage gun
he’s only having fun
6 kills one year
it’s his sixteenth one
watch out man
watch out man
watch out man
he’s gonna kill a man
watch out man
watch out man
watch out man
he’s a killer-man
chalk covered hands
lily white hands
chalk covered feet
oh so sweet
bodies in lime
they’ve been trained in the pit
to lie in line and I am sick of it
I’ve been trained in the pit
to kill for what’s mine
the world is there for the taking
you better not try and take mine
no.
we sold our souls to the weather
and it’s better that we don’t ever check our shoes
or take them off ever
cause we step on people on the outside
we track them around on the rug on the inside
we sit back in our expensive chairs
and we are whining
“You know, what’s that smell?”
And I was afraid of that,
people so angry with established fact
it’s the Man it’s the Klan it’s the man who ran
for president last year
well listen up dear
Isn’t that blood on your hands?
Isn’t that a gun in your hand?
Oh it’s behind your back now?
Oh, I didn’t see it back there!
Oh my God, it must’ve been somebody else!
and I’ve been trained in the pit
to kill for what’s mine
the world is there for the taking
you better not try and take mine
no.
*newsflash!!*
Well, the protests have all been cancelled in DC
the weather’s just too rough or something
there’s no good speaking if noone comes to see
you’ve only got speaches for the TV
<< reference to an acquaintance who was all fired up about the Million Mom March and was telling everyone how it was their moral right to go and how it was going to change the world, and then didn’t go because he couldn’t get a ride and felt it was too cold to walk the 6 blocks to the Metro station>>
“FUCK THE POLICE!! FUCK THE POLICE!!!”
If someone said it sober I’d be shocked for weeks!
And you wonder why,
yeah you wonder why,
why no-one ever takes you seriously
<< re: most college/high school poetry open mics >>
and I was afraid of that,
people so angry with ME in fact
he’s a man, he’s the Man, he’s a ROUGHLY straight white man
Well, I’m just a singer-man.
Chalk another up to the higher-ups
they just Pavlov cheer
when you say the word “fuck” here
they clap for the sex, they clap for the violence
maybe they’re just clapping to hear noise from their hands
<< re: Ani Difranco and her knowledge that the rest of the song doesn’t matter, as long as the audience has an opprotunity to chant the word FUCK, they’ll Love you forever >>
I dug my own grave, I’ve admired yours too
I’ve even been trained to go pull the trigger too
you do me, and I’ll do you
we’ll leave a little less for the streets to do.
©2000 rob hinkal
