Street Chivalry (Part 2)

Shaken hand and pistol glimmer in the moonlight. Forgive me God, for I am not right. Cocked, locked, and loaded, I try to thrive. I must have what you hold, I need to survive. A genuine cop killer I hold. Broken dreams drive me to be cold. Through my eyes, you can read like a book. The pain of the life I shouldn't of took In this world, this scene is routine. My life is the shattered American dream. Somewhat like brothers are you and I. For it is on these streets we are dyeing, trying to survive. Who could dream a life like this? This dream of a perpetual glitch. Sadly, this is how we endure. You must fight back, against this city with no cure. Despite this common bond we share. It is from those hands, your money I must tear. And it is here we are no longer brothers. On these streets we kill one another.