BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Money Gang
- My name is called out.
- Heavy and defeated
- I walk over to the desk where the
- Guard stands.
- “What’s your booking number man”?
- I get the word out
- With much effort.
- My hands are bound,
- My legs shackled.
- I am only wearing these chains,
- And the hatred in my heart
- Is evident in my actions.
- I am heading for the hole,
- Me and four others
- Who’ve survivedYou are okay then”?
- “Yep”
- Of course I am not all right.
- Of course my whole
- 20 year old,
- One hundred thirty pound frame
- Hurts like crazy.
- But all the same,
- I keep my end
- Of the unspoken agreement
- Between us
- And those who hold
- The keys,
- They, who see me as nothing,
- As just another
- Faceless wanderer
- Of this vast wasteland
- Of LA County Jail
- Where brutality
- And misfortune are king.
- The hole is filthy.
- My ribs are cracked.
- My face is purple.
- My first thought Is “sleep”
- But my anger cuts
- Right through the pain.
- My head is throbbing.
- The cell stinks
- Of sweat and desperation.
- The rats are out playing.
- My mouth is dry and sour.
- I am cold
- But determined to show otherwise.
- I feel like crying.
- I feel like screaming
- A good healthy ef you
- At life,
- But I stay quiet Like a good obedient soldier
- Who’s not allowed
- To show emotions
- I wait
- For this feeling to subside.
- I wait for stillness
- To conquer my fears,
- To embrace me
- To deliver me into the hands
- Of oblivion,
- To that place of unconscious
- Magic
- Where I don’t have
- To feel the weight
- Of my body
- Nor the decay
- Of having been born
- A human being
- Without direction,
- Without a home.
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