| Peace Frog |
| There's blood in the streets, It's up to my ankles. There's blood in the streets, It's up to my knees. There's blood in the street, The town of Chicago. Blood on the rise, It's followin' me. Just about the break of day. She came in town, And then she drove away, Sunlight in her hair. Blood on the streets Runs a river of sadness. Blood in the streets, It's up to my thighs. The river runs down The leg of the city. The women are crying Red rivers of weeping. She came in town, And then she drove away, Sunlight in her hair. *spoken* Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding, ghosts crowd the young child's fragile, egg-shell mind. Blood in the streets, In the town of New Haven. Blood stains the roofs And the palm tress of Venice. Blood in my love, In the terrible summer; Bloody red sun of fantastic L.A. Blood screams her brain As they chop off her fingers. Blood will be born In the birth of a nation. Blood is the rose of Mysterious union. There's blood in the streets, It's up to my ankles. There's blood in the streets, It's up to my knees. There's blood in the street, The town of Chicago. Blood on the rise, It's followin' me. |