as i walk through the valley of one eighty-seven land
no matter what state
what city
what town
i can see there's no place to run
no place to hide
i could be in the crosshairs of somebody
somewhere
i wanna ask why. but i ain't got time for that
i gotta keep movin on
or be the next one to die
i walk through the valley of no-man's land
sayin peace
slappin fives and holdin up those two fingers
to the many nine millimeter automatic pistol toting young men
that roam everywhere
i wonder what will be the next small incident
that will cause one of them to pull out
and spray bullets recklessly in every direction
will my grandmother be on her way to the store
for a loaf of bread and a tv guide at that very moment
as i walk through the valley at night
i'm thinkin
i don't know that brother walkin across the