Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song King Park, artist - La Dispute. Album song Wildlife, in the genre Пост-хардкор
Date of issue: 03.10.2011
Record label: No Sleep
Song language: English
King Park |
Another shooting on the southeast side. |
This a drive-by, mid-day, |
Outside of the bus stop, by Fuller and Franklin. |
Or near there. |
Not far from the park. |
About a block from where the other shooting was last |
month. |
Or was it last week? |
Shots were fired from an SUV heading northbound, Eastown, |
The target a rival but they didn’t hit the target this time. |
They hit a kid we think had nothing to do with it. |
And I travel backwards through time and space and I disintegrate, |
become invisible. |
I want to see it where I couldn’t when it happened. |
I want to see it all first hand this time. |
I want to know what it felt like. |
So I float behind police lines, reconstruct the scene in fragments of memories. |
I want to know what his mother looked like up close, I want to see her leaning |
over his body. |
So I float there, transcend time. |
I want to capture it accurately. |
I want to know what the color of the blood was spilling out from the tarp onto |
the concrete. |
I want to write it all down so I can always remember. |
If you could see it up close how could you ever forget how senseless death, |
how precious life. |
I want to be there when the bullet hit. |
And the crowd poured out as the shots drowned into siren sounds, |
out of their houses now |
And over front yards, all the way up to the place where the police tape ran to |
mark the crime |
Scene. |
Everybody trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening, |
Of what was going on between the ambulance and all the cop cars. |
Everybody gossiping, «Whose kid got hit? |
Where’d it hit him? |
And who could’ve |
fired it?» |
Everybody wondering, «How did it happen again? |
And is he dead? |
These children. |
Our kids.» |
Everybody wondering how far they were from where the victims lived. |
And I visit them, their houses. |
Inside my dream I visit them. |
My spirit, soaring high and high up over King Park, leaves the crime scene, |
travels further back |
Till far before the shooting, through their windows, to their living rooms. |
I see them younger this time, playing games and doing homework. |
All these marks of youth soon transformed coldly into stone for fights and |
stupid feuds. |
For ruins wrapped in gold. |
And cruelly I recall why I have come: |
To find a reason. |
But |
There cannot be a reason, not for death, not like this. |
Not like this. |
Three days later they made funeral plans. |
The family. |
Three days later a mother had to bury her son. |
Not far away the shooter holed up in a hotel near to the highway with a friend |
and the gun. |
That same gun. |
He’d fled immediately but was identified by witnesses, |
his picture on TV. |
Only 20 years old, they called him «Grandpa."He was older than the others by a |
year, |
Maybe two. |
And he was safe for awhile until somebody saw him there and notified the |
authorities |
Who surrounded the hotel, first arresting an accomplice while attempting to |
flee, |
Then chasing him up the staircase to the floor where he’d stayed. |
He closed the door hard |
Behind him, locked himself in the room. |
They could’ve kicked in the door but knew the gun was still with him, |
One he’d already used and so they feared what he’d do. |
I floated up through the window of a room to the West. |
I hovered out to the hallway, tried to listen in. |
I heard them trying to reason, get him to open the door. |
His uncle begging and pleading, half-collapsed to the floor. |
He preached of hope and forgiveness, |
Said, «There is always a chance to rectify what you’ve taken, make your peace |
in the world.» |
I thought to slip through the door, I could’ve entered the room, |
I felt the burden of murder, it shook the earth to the core. |
Felt like the world was collapsing. |
Then we heard him speak, |
«Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself? |
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself? |
Can I ever be forgiven 'cause I killed that kid? |
It was an accident I swear it wasn’t meant for him! |
And if I turn it on me, if I even it out, can I still get in or will they send |
me to hell? |
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?» |
I left the hotel behind, don’t want to know how it ends. |