Family dwelling on a twelve inch screen.
Sunlight on each windowsill.
Now the motion picture is a still-life scene.
How did life become so still?
And I in pa**ing chanced to meet a stranger on my street.
He told me this whole block's coming down.
He smiled and crossed a vacant lot.
Somehow I never thought we'd move to shantytown.
Ghosts like garbage blowing down the street
They whisper I remember this:
Planning more than trying to make both ends meet.
Futures fading like a kiss.
And I in pa**ing chanced to meet a neighbor from my street.
He turned his head and looked at the ground.
I asked him why he had to go.
He said he didn't know and left for shantytown.
Who will mend these broken promises?
Sane hands weave a crazy quilt.
Open season for the doubting Thomases.
Houses jack has never built.
And now the echo of your feet is fading from my street.
This silence that must pa** for sound.
But please don't wave good-bye too soon
'cause I'll be seeing you right here in shantytown.