Another shooting on the southeast side, this a drive-by, mid-day
Outside of the bus stop, by Fuller and Franklin, or near there
Not far from the park
About a block from where the other shooting was last month
Or was it last week?
Shots were fired from an SUV heading northbound, Eastown
The target a rival but they didn't hit the target this time
They hit a kid we think had nothing to do with it
And I travel backwards through time and space
And I disintegrate, become invisible
I want to see it where I couldn't when it happened
I want to see it all first hand this time
I want to know what it felt like
So I float behind police lines
Reconstruct the scene in fragments of memories
I want to know what his mother looked like up close
I want to see her leaning over his body
So I float there, transcend time
I want to capture it accurately
I want to know what the color of the blood was
Spilling out from the tarp onto the concrete
I want to write it all down so I can always remember
If you could see it up close how could you ever forget?
How senseless death, how precious life
I want to be there when the bullet hit
And the crowd poured out as the shots drowned into siren sounds
Out of there houses now and over front yards
All the way up to the place where the police tape ran to mark the crime scene
Everybody trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening
Of what was going on between the ambulance and all the cop cars
"Whose kid got hit? Where'd it hit him? And who could've fired it?"
"How did it happen again? And is he dead? These children, our kids."
Everybody wondering how far they were from where the victims lived
And I visit them, their houses, inside my dream I visit them
My spirit, soaring high and high up over King Park
Leaves the crime scene, travels further back till far before the shooting
Through their windows, to their living rooms
I see them younger this time, playing games and doing homework
All these marks of youth soon transformed coldly into stone
For fights and stupid feuds, for ruins wrapped in gold
And cruelly I recall why I have come to find a reason
But there cannot be a reason, not for death, not like this, not like this
Three days later they made funeral plans, the family
Three days later a mother had to bury her son
Not far away the shooter holed up in a hotel
Near to the highway with a friend and the gun, that same gun
He'd fled immediately but was identified by witnesses
His picture on TV, only 20 years old
They called him "Grandpa"
He was older than the others by a year, maybe two
And he was safe for awhile until somebody saw him there
And notified the authorities who surrounded the hotel
First arresting an accomplice while attempting to flee
Then chasing him up the staircase to the floor where he'd stayed
He closed the door hard behind him, locked himself in the room
They could've kicked in the door but knew the gun was still with him
One he'd already used and so they feared what he'd do
I floated up through the window of a room to the West
I hovered out to the hallway, tried to listen in
I heard them trying to reason, get him to open the door
His uncle begging and pleading, half-collapsed to the floor
He preached of hope and forgiveness
Said, "There is always a chance to rectify what you've taken, make your peace in the world."
I thought to slip through the door, I could've entered the room
I felt the burden of murder, it shook the earth to the core
Felt like the world was collapsing then we heard him speak
"Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I ever be forgiven 'cause I killed that kid?
It was an accident I swear it wasn't meant for him!
And if I turn it on me, if I even it out
Can I still get in or will they send me to hell?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?"
I left the hotel behind, don't want to know how it ends