Has it really all come to this? The paint on the streets telling answers to why we exist The prophets on the beats conjure to reminisce And the poets say they know it but they can only toss down lists
When did graffiti turn to wisdom? When did the vandal find the light? When did the truth stop during the day Only to come out in the night?
I don't think we've lost our way It seems that more are being found Wisdoms coming from the youth And shouting from the underground
The grass grows where its watered The seed determines what you reap We can focus our attention And quit walking like we're asleep
Has it really come down to this? The lights in the darkness though it seems quite amiss Call it down from the heavens fill this world with bliss A match can only burn for so long but a lanterns got its wicks