Take Me Home

There are places with faces that carry no names
Cardboard houses that fold up in the rain
On the sidewalk the small talk disguises the pain
There’s nothing left to lose and less yet to gain

In the bars wearing scars are the men who’ve been shamed
In the streets are the women whose strength is to blame
And the forgotten children, their anger is aimed
At anything won by the rules of the game

Take me home boys
Don’t ask me about where I’ve been
Take me home boys
I’ve got blood on my hands won’t come clean

As a child I was told where I should not be found
Keep my thoughts to myself and my ear to the ground
And to keep a safe distance when they come around
No one ever said where they’d been or they’re bound

But mama I’ve seen men take blood from a stone
I’ve seen blighted harvests from seeds we have sown
My questions aren’t answered although I have grown
Like a night in the desert it chills to the bone

Take me home boys
Don’t ask me about where I’ve been
Take me home boys
I’ve got blood on my hands won’t come clean

Sometimes late at night with the wind in the trees
I hear someone’s voice crying out on the breeze
And then just for a moment, my soul it does freeze
In the silence that follows I fall to my knees

For the men who have worked their whole lives to be free
The women who’s husbands beat them ’til they bleed
The kids told of chances they never will see
In their eyes are the lies I was taught to believe

Take me home boys
Don’t ask me about where I’ve been
Take me home boys
I’ve got blood on my hands won’t come clean