King Park

Another shooting on the southeast side, this a drive-by, midday
Outside of the bus stop by Fuller and Franklin
Or near there, not far from the park
About a block from where the other shooting was last month
Or was it last week?

Shots were fired from an SUV heading northbound, Eastown
The target a rival, but they didn't hit the target this time
They hit a kid we think had nothing to do with it
And I travel backwards through time and space
And I disintegrate, become invisible
I wanna see it where I couldn't when it happened
I wanna see it all first hand this time
I wanna know what it felt like

So I float behind police lines
Reconstruct the scene in fragments of memories
I wanna know what his mother looked like up close
I wanna see her leaning over his body
So I float there, transcend time
I wanna capture it accurately
I wanna know what the color of the blood was
Spilling out from the tarp onto the concrete

I wanna write it all down, so I can always remember
If you could see it up close, how could you ever forget?
How senseless death, how precious life
I wanna be there when the bullet hit

And the crowd poured out as the shots drowned into siren sounds
Out of their houses now and over front yards
All the way up to the place where the police tape ran to mark the crime scene
Everybody trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening
Of what was going on between the ambulance and all the cop cars

Everybody gossiping
"Whose kid got hit? Where'd it hit him? And who could've fired it?"
Everybody wondering
"How did it happen again? And is he dead? These children, our kids"
Everybody wondering
How far they were from where the victims live

And I visit them, their houses, inside my dream I visit them
My spirit, soaring high and high up over King Park
Leaves the crime scene, travels further back 'til far before the shooting
Through their windows, to their living rooms
I see them younger this time, playing games and doing homework

All these marks of youth soon transformed coldly into stone
For fights and stupid feuds, for ruins wrapped in gold
And cruelly, I recall why I have come to find a reason
But there cannot be a reason, not for death
Not like this, not like this

Three days later, they made funeral plans, the family
Three days later, a mother had to bury her son

Not far away, the shooter holed up in a hotel
Near to the highway with a friend and the gun, that same gun
He'd fled immediately, but was identified by witnesses
His picture on TV, only 20 years old
They called him "Grandpa"
He was older than the others by a year, maybe two

And he was safe for a while until somebody saw him there
And notified the authorities who surrounded the hotel
First arresting an accomplice while attempting to flee
Then chasing him up the staircase to the floor where he'd stayed
He closed the door hard behind him, locked himself in the room
They could've kicked in the door, but knew the gun was still with him
One he'd already used, and so they feared what he'd do

I floated up through the window of a room to the west
I hovered out to the hallway, tried to listen in
I heard them trying to reason, get him to open the door
His uncle begging and pleading, half-collapsed to the floor
He preached of hope and forgiveness, said, "There is always a chance
To rectify what you've taken, make your peace in the world"
I thought to slip through the door, I could've entered the room
I felt the burden of murder, it shook the earth to the core
Felt like the world was collapsing, then we heard him speak

"Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I ever be forgiven 'cause I killed that kid?
It was an accident, I swear it wasn't meant for him
And if I turn it on me, if I even it out
Can I still get in or will they send me to hell?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?"
I left the hotel behind, don't wanna know how it ends