Next In Line

Born on the southside, and you're living alone

Four walls and a roof but it's always cold

Look out the window and there's nothing to see

But a riot torn city, the death of your country

You're chilled to the bone

With no possessions to call your own

You control your rage and you resist the crime

'Cause you're the next in line



Born on the southside, and you're living alone

Four walls and a roof but it's always cold

Look out the window and there's nothing to see

But a riot torn city, the death of your country

Now you're chilled to the bone

With no possessions to call your own

You control your rage and you resist the crime

Because you're the next in line



Out the back door and to the corner store

All you want is a drink and nothing more

Sit on the stoop and let the liquor

Soothe your pride before you go inside

Now you're chilled to the bone

With no possessions to call your own

You control your rage and you resist the crime

You're the next in line



You cut in front and you're the next in line

You cut in front and you're the next in line

You never thought you'd lead a life of crime

You cut in front and you're the next in line



Freedom's the only thing you need

But the truth is something few understand

And an unwelcome reality

Now it's dark and it's black and it's sad and gone

You express and repress the thing gone wrong

And you want to be the man who ran away

And you wish you could go back to yesterday



Now he's in her room and he's about to lie

So you pull the gun and squeeze the trigger and let the bullets fly...