let the war drums bang
let us prepare for the fight,
none of us want to be here
yet we arrive throughout the night,
it's an unwritten rule
phone rings, we better run,
the brothers depend on us
we are our father's sons,
we started as little soldiers
trying to fill our father's boots,
now i look into the eyes of my son
he will NEVER know his father's roots,
he will never know this violence
or the pressure of the masses,
he will be far from the wickedness
when another family clashes,
yes, my hands may be dirty
and my soul has burned away,
no tragedy here, the flames I burn in
are going to light his way. 🔥🔦
©victor1
V