I was once escorted through the doors
That somebody understands
What is it about Buffalo?
And the vengeance was divine
Whizzed past his kid and his wife
And the blood poured off the pulpit
It was just one shot
Where the truth has no place to stand
And after Him
Did the hate filled want to build bunkers
Just calling to let to know
If you fly like a crow
And knocked his glasses right off of his face
With this useless little lever in my hand
And the hatred was immediate, yeah
Birmingham, I'm wishing you all of my best
Yeah, the blood poured down the picket lines
And praying for the next Doctor Martin Luther King
And now I've drawn closed the curtains in this little booth
What is it about Birmingham?
Down the barrel of a gun
They stuffed his only son
And no bombs went off that day
They want to build them in our shiny white snow
Through the kitchen window
So they went and stuffed God
In his one safe place
Oh, Birmingham, I'm wishing you all of my best
A bullet ensuring the right to life
Just one or two miles from here
Hello Birmingham; it's Buffalo
A bullet came to visit a doctor
In your beautiful red earth?
For the next killing thing
And outside my city is bracing
I heard you had some trouble down there again
So I am still here to say
Of a clinic by a man in a bulletproof vest
Standing by the bridge
And I am feeling, oh, so powerless
In this stupid booth
Oh, Birmingham, I'm wishing you all of my best
