WINTER IN AMERICA

WINTER IN AMERICA by Gil Scott Heron.
From the Indians who welcomed the Pilgrims
To the buffalo who once ruled the plains;
Like the vultures circling beneath the dark clouds,
Looking for the rain/looking for the rain.

From the cities that stagger on the coast lines
In a nation that just can't take much more/
Like the forest buried beneath the highways, never had a chance to grow/never had a chance to grow.

It's winter; winter in America and all of the leaders have been killed or forced away.
It's winter; winter in America and ain't nobody fighting 'cause nobody knows what to save.

The con-stitution was a noble piece of paper; with a Free Society they struggled but they died in vain/
And now Democracy is ragtime on the corner, hoping that it rains/hoping that it rains.
And I've seen robins perched in barren treetops watching last ditch racist marching across the floor
And like the peace signs that melted down in our dreams, never had a chance to grow/never had a chance to grow.

It's winter; winter in America and all the healers done been killed or put in jail.
It's winter; winter in America and ain't nobody fighting 'cause nobody knows what to save.....

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