We fled the City – but we’re still Scared of our old Neighborhood my Mother prays a lot – out Loud – I’ve got my own Bedroom
My Brother looks – a lot like me – my Sister – not so Much my Father? Oh – I can’t recall – his Life – a loaded Gun
The light Rail – yes – it cuts both Ways – the Planners sold but One: the Banker to his Office – not my old Gang to our front Door
Like Bluebirds – in – an old Cartoon who’re hanging out – the Wash – we pinch the Sheet – at each Corner and – we cover – up – my Face
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