The Pain

Somebody said a mouthful
It wasn't enough to be tortured
and then truthful
They had to get some shit on television
To try to prove some loser was crazy
But instead there was a man upstairs with a plan
And the only words that came out were about
Losing face and losing the race
They said something about too many pain pills
And blistering funny good times
About how a guy might be a faggot
That's some great lines
Is it Fallon or should I say maggot?
Do you have any idea what could have happened?
What may have become of the boy you decided was guilty
and sentenced to hell and then execution
or vice versa, but it gets worse, a
trial without a jury, a noose for my neck because
I'm the guy who wouldn't hit the deck
While you shot your bullets over everybody else's heads
I said
No. Stop. What. Why. I didn't die?
So maybe I can make my mind fly
but there's still these people all around me
who care about me
and who I can't let be killed by your hatred
your violence, you're racism, your silence
as you assassinate me
just a normal guy
who was born into
never ever feeling victory
What the hell was this supposed to be?

Am I clear enough?
I'm just getting started.
I think I'll grab a cup of coffee
And talk to you about how you accused me of violence
While you snarled and snapped
And I couldn't even fight back

Because I'm supposed to be down on the ground begging for mercy
But I'm not
you can't hurt me
But you can hurt my family

Don't do that.
Please.
They are the only thing left for me.