The sound of gunfire comes pounding down the street
BPM around 110
Hear it on the TV, it’s always on the tube
Victims always look like you

The foundation’s cracking, even store-bought rebels know
Think of all the places that you won’t go
Now you see a stranger, and you cross the street
You walk straight ahead and listen for his feet

Now, well there it is again…

Negative thoughts bounce around
Like a bad itch in the back of your brain
It’s getting hard not to say this
There’s something we gotta face here

Little words that slip out
You better think about what you’re thinking
When you pin the blame
On people you don’t know

We used to speak of justice
Not self-preservation
But sometimes you talk
About getting a gun

Now, well there it is again…

Negative thoughts bounce around
Like a bad itch in the back of your brain
It’s getting hard not to say this
Are you becoming a racist?