We see what we want to see and we don’t see reality,
People that live on the streets,
With opportunities that sit on a table like a feast,
You are given a fork but you just can’t stab at it,
Because the rent, the gas, the bills are screaming your name,
You try to silence them but in vain, because another month came,
And it is just the same.

Oppress the problem, make it go away,
Martin Luther King made everything ok,
Well tell that to the people dying on the streets,
Nothing to eat, nothing but defeat,
Tell that to the boy who stole a pack of cigarettes,
Then got shot down like he was a major threat.
Although they may not be able to speak,
With muzzled minds and sewn lips.

It is not only about racial discrimination,
It is about opportunity and frustration
You argue that they are the same for all,
Well tell that to the family living on minimum wage,
Supporting two kids and an Afghanistan vet,
Who risked his life so that we could live free,
And comes back with on leg,
To a broken country.

And as I speak to you some kid just got stabbed on the streets,
They rush him to the hospital but the doctors are cheap;
“Patch him up and get him out of here, he doesn’t have health care”
It is insane, they don’t give him pills to handle the pain,
Now in my dictionary that is called inhumane
And in the mirror they can look in disgrace
The face of inhumanity against the human race.