Hmm, a little boy shot in the head Just another kid sent out to get some bread Not the first murder nor the last Again and again a repetition of the past Since the very first day same story Young ones, old ones, some glory How can it be, has the whole world turned blind? Or is it just 'cause it's only affecting my kind?! If these walls could speak, imagine what would they say For me in this path that I walk on there's only one way Bullets may kill, bones may break Still I throw stones like David before me and I say