There’s something happening here
But what it is ain’t exactly clear
There’s a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware
I think it’s time we stop
Children, what’s that sound?
As you tread your path through a jaundiced corridor
Where each day has no beginning and no end
There are those out here who claim to be so good
I suspect that Jesus holidayed in hell
I could dance all night like I’m a soul boy
But I know I’d rather drag myself across the dance floor
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
And cut him ’til he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains