Billie's singing "Strange Fruit"
Louie's blowing on "Black and Blue"
Chuck is spitting out "Fight the Power"
All crying out for you.
But you can't hear their songs
No drums beat, no trumpets play,
So we will light the air on fire,
Because they wouldn't let you breathe it anyway.
Let those who do not weep cower in their bunkers,
Let them grow to fear the sound
Bob is still singing his Songs of Freedom
And seeing you, your face pressed into the ground.
I won't sing no songs now.
I can't breathe
Anway.
Maybe it isn't songs we need now.
I can't breathe
and I can't play.
We have heard all the elegant words.
I can't breathe
So there is nothing I can say.
Let's light the air on fire
I can't breathe
it anyway
E.H. Decker is the name of a pen, like Mark Twain, not A.T. Cross. Said pen belongs to a father of two writing between jobs on movies, parenting and obsessing over movies, tv, music, wine and words. Comments here are encouraged so long as you can be respectful to others and you have actually taken the time to read what you're commenting on.
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Spaceman's Pancakes 