Keep me back in the real world  From which we try to run  Music and words don't mean anything  Through the barrel of a gun    A poem cannot heal a wound  Books won't help you find  That something which you're searching for  But just add questions to the mind    Tell me now in black and white  What you're supposed to do  When fists and knives and sticks and boots  Come raining down on you    A painted picture on a wall  Can't justify a life  When the weak and poor cannot escape  Their uglinessand strife    The actor in a bridge of words  Leading us to nowhere  Dressed in costumes to disguise  The reality of despair    The poets turmoil strikes again  As once more words they fail me  Another bomb has just supplied  The cross on which to nail me .