Perhaps you like the fear;
The pain, the crime, the sin.
Perhaps it makes it clear;
The name, the right, the kin.
Perhaps a silent cry at birth
Would haunt our future earth…
'It’s ok to kill for money',
My father said to me.
'It’s ok to kill for money.'
A righteous shot in the dark,
Expected, within reason.
A limp man, raw and stark,
Farewell to his season.
Perhaps a mother’s groan at birth
Would deny another’s worth…
'It’s ok to shoot for pennies',
My father said to me.
'It’s ok to shoot for pennies.'
Crisp notes lined up neatly,
Illegal, clean, and closed.
Family ties close and tight,
Beautiful disgrace exposed-
No, never a sound at birth,
Never to haunt our earth…
'It’s ok to kill for money',
My father said to me.
'It’s ok to kill for money.'
