Graffiti Limbo

Lay down your burdens

Lay down your cares

The Holy Virgin

She's gonna greet you up there

With a big can of spray paint

With a big blank wall

And I can guaran-damn -tee ya

There ain't no cops around at all

Graffiti Limbo

Where do you go?

Graffiti Limbo

When there ain't no justice

I only speak for myself

But the word around town

Is that something's shaking

In the underground

I only speak for myself

But the word on the street

Is that the writing's on the wall

And the cops on the beat

I wrote this song for a man named Michael Stewart. A young black man

arrested while writing graffiti on a subway wall in New York City. And while

under arrest, surrounded by eleven white transit cops. Michael Stewart was

strangled to death and when his case went to court not one cop was found

guilty because the coroner lost the evidence. You see, in order to determine

that Michael Stewart was strangled to death, the coroner had to use Michael

Stewart's eyeballs, his eyes, as evidence. So now when I tell you that it

was Michael Stewart's eyes that the coroner lost, do you know what I mean

when I tell you that justice is blind?

You can have your little Style Wars

You can keep your little dance

But Those Crazy Writers

Don't stand a ghost of a chance

It's "Color Them Cons" (Mayor Koch said)

Call it a crime

It's steer clear of the engineer

Of the Midnight Special Line