8 Gods of Harlem

Rain falls on the paramedics but they do not go inside The street is where it all went down, the street is where he lies The mother in her universe feels nothing but the pain The son who was a baby but who will never be a man So we pray to the God of Broken Class We pray to the God of Gunfire and Regret We pray to the God of Collateral Children We pray to them all, the eight Gods of Harlem Son was on his best behavior, shit was on his shoes Blood was on the handlebars, nothing on the news No one saw it coming, no one was to blame Daddy's got a broken heart, he'll never be the same So we pray to the God of Old Illusions We pray to the God of Wasted Chances We pray to the God of Dreams and Roses We pray to them all, the eight Gods of Harlem A girl falls down in hysterics Is she laughing? Is she crying? Is she living? Is he dying? Undone Who raise the glasses higher Sulfur from the underground Erosion, scalding steam Her brother in a picture frame And someone starts to scream So we pray to the God of Washed Out Paper Broken Hearts We pray to the God, the last chance is for rage and vengeance We pray to the God, beat the drum slowly, neatly folded up and hidden Old Glory We pray to them all, the eight Gods of Harlem