Sirens wail on back-roads.

Under moonlights cold. Unforgiving light. 

Frantic crowds. Gallop at sundown— 

dragging you. Towards. Heaven’s. Ghastly. Night. 

White silhouettes. Conjure from corners. 

Shouting incantations of slurs. With. Killer. Intent. 

By the dusk, he is marked by the sea— 

By the dusk, he is marked by the sea— 

Forget the name. Forget the code. 

The white man’s God don’t talk no more.

No scripture. Left to name your wounds— 

The hymns have drowned. Beneath the blood. 

Ignore the pain and shush your cries— 

The backs made blue will bear the weight of time. 

By the moon, he is claimed by the tree— 

By the moon, he is claimed by the tree— 

Let the rope take its hold, they will scream tonight — 

Kick the stool with a grin—make it known. 

As the youth gouge their eyes, hang upright— 

Float and smile. Don’t speak. Don’t move. 

Immerse your crown in blood, so they will fear the sight, 

the pain no more, for what is born at night will die in light. 

By the sun, he is hung on the tree— 

By the sun, he is hung by the sea—