He thought, away from the city lights the starlight really shined bright, away from the city in plight, accompanied by sounds that just weren't right, he sang:
"Oh,oh,oh, If I had a rocket I would escape. Aww the chance of freedom, nothing could beat it. I imagine all the fires I could've lit
He dreamed of the red, white, and blue sailing proudly in the sky, freedom: he wondered if he'd ever attain it
But he fret, that in this tree, hidden and scared, lit only by starlight, he would forever sit
If he had a rocket, he would go to America and sing as loud as he could
If he had a rocket maybe he'd just watch the world turn in total peace, something he'd never known, then, his violent world so pleasantly abolished and torn
The boy knew he couldn't sing here, they'd hear him. So he sang quietly in a deadly world so crude
There he'd be in the sky amongst the stars, away from the guns and grenades and the fire foreshadowing violence, the fire that killed him and made him feel rotten to the core
He sat lonesome with the final bomb gone off, he let himself lose himself in the bright and plentiful night sky stars. Cold wind swept through his hair and heard the Savannah grass rustle with the wind as the boy shuts his eyes, at peace, he knew he wanted to die like this, he felt the cold and mud caked barrel of his pistol pressed against his temple
Maybe, he thought, this'll be his rocket
So bang, bang, went the gun. He died happy and at peace, knowing among the beauteous stars he would fit.
ns 15.158.61.51da2
