Street Sects Featherweight Hate
Blamed your defeat
On your so called disease
I was certain you'd die
Staring drunkenly into my eyes
And your worth was obscured
No one valued your word
Your last ride in my car
Cost you a dime behind bars
Leaving a wife and child
To fend for themselves
Carrying secrets you knew
They'd be too scared to tell
Blamed your arrest
On your poor taste in friends
But it wasn't their fault
You let desperation break your heart
And I know it was wrong
To never visit or call
But as our mother would say
I had my own debts to pay
On the eve of your release I began trembling
As thoughts raced through my mind
I'd heard talk of how you'd changed inside
So I showered and then loaded my shotgun
And sat facing the door
To welcome my brother back home
