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Horse Feathers

Albina

Now we've got concrete.
A place those blacks won't be.
If we come they'll know.
They should flee,
They should go.
Here comes a white shadow.

Blues aren't made from greed,
this feast on famine pleads.
To take their space,
if we can, if we may,
make a darker day.
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Please, shame on me.

These things, they come in threes.
This feast on famine pleads.
To take their space,
if we can, if we may,
make a darker day
Please, shame on me.

This street ain't made for me