Shifting Sand
American dreams are on the wall,
Scribbled in Spanish by hands much too small.
The ocean surf smells like sour milk.
The air is filled with dust and silt.
The war on drugs harass poorer men.
It’s all flown in by our government.
Money sings the tune of life.
Rich men know they wield a knife.

Swallowed there by shifting sand
Swallowed there by shifting sand
The wind blows the sand away.
The wind blows the sand away.

Hear the sound of a baby cry.
Sounds like it just might die.
Trash cans seem so full of them,
In a future that is much too grim.
Homeless men who haunt the street,
Would rather beg so they might eat
Their time expires in their hands,
As minute grains of shifting sand.

Swallowed there by shifting sand
The wind blows the sand away.