There was a riot in the streets and it makes me sick
While we’re proselytizing about unity
We’re burning down our own community
Car lurches forward and shots ring out
Self defense the cops had no doubt
But the citizens did not agree
So they lit the fuse of anarchy
I know that a riot is the language of the unheard
And we have a lot to say tonight
But this type of justice I cannot afford
Helicopters miss no beat
National Guard rolling down my street
Our block turned into an inferno
My brothers fall asleep in their cells
The cops return to their homes
The reporters return to their homes
The politicians return to their homes
Tomorrow morning and policy stands
Neighbors sifting ashes through their hands
This used to be my store
But insurance deductible means I’m here no more
Fred Shrum, III was born near Washington, D.C. and grew up in Florida. He attended the University of South Florida and earned a B.A. in Communication with a minor in Business Administration