Little People Lyrics - Singles - The Procussions

(Mr J Medeiros) 

Envision the prison of age 

where the apparent disposition 

is that of a parrot commissioned to live in a cage 

who hits the parents when decisions are made 

to not listen and they got their fist in opposition to fair play 

must be in your submission to rage 

you became a victim the same way 

the system done gave way 

inflicting the same pain 

your convicted and cant blame 

recondition your brain till your convinced you can change 

understandably wishin family tradition wont land you in a position 

where you feelin the rain 

lonely without a home, cus now your childs grown 

wearing a milestone like its the only tie you own 

crying when your alone 

hoping that God forgives you, wondering if your kids do 

no one should have to live through 

the violence that you been through 

the fight that's still within you 

its time to make things right and free the child that lives in you. 

(Hook) 

hear me...see me... 

do you even know i'm still breathing 

i listen to the sounds of a TV. 

the only thing that really wants to reach me 

daddy listen...mommy please... 

there must be a better way to raise me 

i'm yelling till my ears can't hear me 

into a silence that kills me 

(Stro) 

there billy stands in twenty below gripping his coat 

that froze two hours ago 

dramatic i know, but cold ain't it, seven year olds waiting 

takes another look at a picture that lost time painted 

we say put it away i can't look at it 

the truth stings a little when you look at it 

we're creating a mold of bad habits 

when the teacher got eleven year olds that blast at 'em 

and the world tunes in just then 

listening to every word daddy should have heard at age ten 

then daddy wonders where it all began 

he could call you a father, but couldn't really ever call you a friend 

you worked hard to provide a home for good living 

and you figured, that's all that you really had to give 'em 

now, if you don't know much know this 

all work, no play, far cry, near miss 

(Hook) 

(Rez) 

it was once said that the 

grass will weather and the flower will fall down 

and every man must pass when his number gets called 

but when a child takes his life that type of logic don't work out 

a flower never chose to pluck its own pedals out 

and through out of the tears it gets so clear 

that the son i held dear i lost somewhere 

between my work passion and a child size casket 

it's hard to grasp when these dreams keep flashing his 

cold foot hanging from a stainless steel table and 

a white sheet stain with a mothers pain a grief 

and every day i wake to face this feeling of pain 

so i milk the scapegoat to easy this feeling of blame thinking 

what kind of man am i? what kind of mother were you? 

what kind of life did we subject our child to? 

wishing i would have listened i would have probably seen clues 

praying for salvation that his soul could sure use 

(Hook)