It's really changed down there;
once a nice place to be.
Now there's so little care;
a pitiful sight to see.
Cars wrecked on the sides of the streets;
in flames or in cinders or blowing steam.
The store on the corner's now no place to meet,
and I hear an occasional scream.
People running through the streets like mice;
back and forth, guns ready, looking behind, acting paranoid.
Soldier want-to-be's making everyone else pay the price;
shoot anyone they see that they're trying to avoid.
Inside buildings, people being tortured, women raped,
men in long coats and dark shades waiting for their contact.
Most were lucky if they escaped;
first rewarded for their service then shot in the back.
I saw one who managed to go to sleep,
then I saw the others who crashed in and fired with no demands.
She dropped in the corner to weep,
I went to help her, but she died in my hands.
I was taking her child to a place of no harm,
but sadly, on the way it died.
So I took it back and put it in its mother's arm,
hoping her spirit would know that I tried.
Now, I still go from roof-top to roof-top,
doing the best I can.
Trying to make this madness stop,
but I am just one man.
And as I now sit on the edge of this roof,
watching the city with the other gargoyles,
hoping I can give myself some proof,
that I can rid this city of its spoils.