TOUR     CONTACT

 HOME  |  TOUR   |  CONTACT

Crossfire

 

He’d trade his guns for love,

But he’s caught in the crossfire,

And he keeps wakin’ up,

But its not to the sound of birds,

The tyranny, the violent streets,

Deprived of all that we’re blessed with,

And we can’t get enough,

Heaven if you sent us down,

So we could build a playground,

For the sinners, to play as saints,

You’d be so proud of what we made

I hope you got some beds around,

Cuz you’re the only refuge now,

For every mother, every child, every brother,

That’s caught in the Crossfire,

 

I’d trade my luck to know,

Why hes caught in the crossfire,

And I’m here wakin up,

To the sun and the sound of birds,

Society’s, Anxiety,

Deprives of all that we’re blessed with,

We just cant get enough,

 

Heaven if you sent us down,

So we could build a playground,

For the sinners, to play as saints,

You’d be so proud of what we made

I hope you got some beds around,

Cuz you’re the only refuge now,

For every mother, every child, every brother,

Who’s caught in the Crossfire,

Can I trust what I’m given?

When faith still needs a gun,

Whose ammunition,

Justifies the wrong?

And I can’t see, from the backseat,

So I’m asking from above,

Can I trust what I’m given,

Even when it cuts?

 

So Heaven if you sent us down,

So we could build a playground,

For the sinners, to play as saints,

You’d be so proud of what we made

I hope you got some beds around,

Cuz you’re the only refuge now,

For every mother, every child, every brother,

Who’s caught in the crossfire,

Who’s caught in the crossfire,

Who’s caught in the crossfire,

Who’s caught on the cross

 

 

—December 7, 2015

Write me:

P.O. Box 93665,
Los Angeles, CA 90893