hiding in shadows, reaching out desperately   there's no culture no belief   conditioned egos   days of pestilence and greed   incubating our disease   mother, father doing fine   dinner is at the table   mute the TV, uncork the wine   separation from the mind   softly sing this lullaby   newborns in their cradles clawing as they cry and shout   because the bottom is falling out   workers strike, locked in factories   so that you and I could feel free   they fell with pride, reclaimed this city's streets   '86 cut in half the work week   It's our culture friend, they want you to forget it   it's our common strand, history taken for granted   takes resilience now to bounce back up when you hit the ground