Killers
The Red Clay Strays
I was born on the sidewalk in a city I don’t know
In sixty-five I took arms and got on a boat
They told me to shoot wherever I saw smoke
I could not stop laughing lord it seemed like a joke.
In seventy-five, at twenty five I had me a son
And he died when he was young because of my gun
Left out in the open in a case I had to run
I could not believe it neither did anyone
They found me in Shreveport just me and a knife
They cleaned off my blood and they sent me to life
For thirty years I lay awake in the night
Thinking 'bout the jungle and blood and the fight
In two thousand five I was let out on the streets
A young fifty-five and now that’s where I sleep
I do my best workin’ with a cup and a sign
Askin’ folks please spare me some change or some time
Yesterday a young man stood at my feet
He asked what I wanted I said something to eat
He said killers with guns they belong on the street
I thought about that and I laughed till I cried
That's the best damn joke I’d heard in a long time
A very long time