Here's where the rioters raged over baseball and race
And here's where the factories were razed and no memory remains
But things are working out well
Don't believe what you see on the streets
The threadbare armies of men broken and dead on their feet
Here's where the wrecking crew tore out the heart of the ward
No street signs remind you that a neighborhood died here before
But things are working out well
Don't believe what you see on the streets
No threadbare armies of men broken and dead on their feet
No more bending your back to the weight of the world
No more sorrows, no setbacks, and no more diving for pearls in the ditches and drains
All our history's remade and no memory remains of us now

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS