City c
Hell gets its fury when God gets His piece
I am just a t
Swayin' in the wind of perso
Get your hands off
H
I am just a
Who lost his roots because he got my hand
I burn it down every day in my brain
Offi
Anybody lived inside, or so I am told
H
I am just a tre
Swayed by the whispers on the wind
Get your hands off
H
I am just a m
With a baby and a pistol in my hand
Wish I could get on the telephone and talk to you
It's not b
The bullets and blood I made for you
H
I am just a t
Cut down by society
Get your hands off
H
I am just a
A father and a husband of this land
A fa
A father and a husband of this land
A f