White Folks Blood

What mysteries flow through these white folk's blood?

What secrets do they hide within?

What sickbed words pass across their lips?

And what passions lie beneath their skin?

Are their fortunes made in their pool halls?

And there lives played out like children's games?

Under the summer sun with a knife and a gun

A Festered wound never heals

On the back porch, in the pawn shops

Dusting off their fathers' guns

Words like worms crawl through their brains

Sermons fly from the preacher's mouth

But the auction block still remains

Gagged and tied to a tree trunk

After a fox hunt chase with dogs and chains

In a field of white in the broad daylight

The earth is black, black with blood

They were friends and they were brothers

Life goes on across the railroad tracks

A flood of tears has come and gone

Autumn comes, white folks settle down

And the preacher quotes from Luke and John

And there is peace and plenty in the country

And the way we are, we will remain

The world keeps spinning round and around

Just keep spinning around and around and around

Everything is still the same

Life goes on

Like before, on the streets

On the porches in our homes in our towns

What we see all around us.

Life goes on

Like before while we sit by the doorway

All around

All our lives

All we do

No surprises