Young men gang the streets looking for a time Watch the clocks trickle time Life makes no friends with dreams They wear their ideals sold to them at full price For the youth here destiny is only tomorrow The answers are always under English rubber stamps (which you can not have nigger) Coldly smothering the fetus: rebellion Night frays the edges of appearance The whitehate blind dates the hateblack They are unfaithfully with any passer by Poverty stokes Hackneys fires Burn the lands to dry barren earth On which these dark seeds lay strewn.