peace beneath the city

here's a prayer for the body buried by the interstate;
mother of a soldier, tree in a forest up in flames.
black valley, peace beneath the city
where the women hear the washboard rhythm in their bosom
when they say:

"give me good legs
and a japanese car,
and show me a road."

sing a song for the bodies buried by the riverbank;
a well-dressed boy and a pig with a bullet in the brain.
black valley, peace beneath the city
where the white girls wander the strip mall,
singing all day:

"give me a juggernaut heart
and a japanese car,
and someone to free."

say something for the body buried like a keepsake;
mother of a million mouths with the very same name.
black valley, peace beneath the city
where the women tell the weather,
but never ever tell you what they pray:

"give me a yellow brick road
and a japanese car,
and benevolent change."