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Irate observations |
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By the people of the streets of Harlem |
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Two centuries, covered in tears |
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But now there's a storm and it's raging |
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Across every highway, I know |
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In the words of the many |
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It won't ever, hold back the tears no more |
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Irate observations |
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But none know the cries weren't answered |
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Who holds the hand |
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That deals so much pain? |
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Cause now there's a feeling and it's growing |
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In the heart of the nation, so much pain |
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But now there's a storm and it's raging |
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Across every highway, I know |
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In the words of the weak |
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It won't ever, hold back the tears no more |
