The art of broken gla** Dropped and glittered the streets still A heart of smoke and ash Blocks are littered and lethal Our martyrs froze in black boxes Bitter and sweet pills co*k crows the last hour hidden the beast fills Hells boroughs with hungry people Tell Zoro that Del Toro is here Out running people They sell morals and fear like guns and steeples The sums of evil men women nuns and priest Feel the pain Ain't none unequal all praying to the Son that we sequel Or at least find peace till The breath we breathe becomes infinite We will rest believe in loves innocence And any implication of this love Intimidates nations of fists who's gloved To the wrist for the risk of their prints Being left at the scene While the rest of us kept what is left of a dream We about a thousand pounds of ground rupturing Mountain town brothers Bringing down anything found with unsound structuring The crown ain't functioning A bunch of kings Turning to they burgers and they onion rings Discouraged at who running things In need of courage among other things Indeed insurgents of a mother's sling Breast-feeding without covering The rest bleeding their lungs feaning relief Breathing the heat they found comforting Defeated by the month of spring No trees no leaves wondering If people are like lumber and they numbers mean nothing Then no wonder they got no green Coveting what others dream of owning While ones doing they own thing Another feels the alone sting Lovers are coming home for them Nina Simone sings “Keeper of the Flame” the hope for the simple Who see outside the frame of all these broken windows