Tell me where do I hide my sons
When you come at us, inspired
Tears and fires, hands and sticks
I don’t want any bones broken
This is what happens when sons
see their mothers beaten
with a stick like the end of a scarf
dangling into fire
wild and unforgiving
I don't want this to happen to my sons
tell me what to do
when you come at us, while we are chanting?
this is the price we have to pay
those who stand between the curb and the stones
eroding voices to get at the end of a song
that doesn't play but for some ears
tell me where do I hide my sons
from all this madness, this anger?
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