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Slave Trade
by
PAULA FRANCESCHI |
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See him kicking through the broken glass
Trashing with the motorcycle leather boys
Slipping through the alleyway
Mean guy, he’s a tough cat
King of the ring
Lord of the ghetto
Young Marlon Brando in a torn guinea-tee
Couldn’t top this dude
He’s got a style of his own
White suit, Continental
Make-up on his face
So I can’t see the color
What could he mean?
Can he be proud?
In the slave trade
Coming to get you
Pearline’s bleeding from a cut across her eye
You know her old man hit her
When she asked him where the money gone
Rent due, landlord getting dirty
Gimee twenty dollars
And I’ll do it any way you wanna
Good Lord, can this be what you want of me?
To grovel in the mud
And be a slave to men’s obscenity?
Good Lord, death would be so sweet to me
Telephone ringing
And I know he’s coming after me
What could he mean?
Can he be proud?
In the slave trade
Coming to get you
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--Submitted by Paulafranceschi on 2013-04-15.
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