Claim

*

**(Verse 1)**

"Desolate," you claim, "sweet future's on the rise,"

But little ones shiver, with fear in their eyes.

If you don't heed my call, this Houston man's plea,

And you lay a hand on 'em, the Gulf will swallow thee.

**(Chorus)**

Millstone bound, Gulf's cold, dark hold,

No cries of sorrow, in this story untold.

Better listen close, breathe air instead of stone,

Than face the storm of wrath, that you have sown.

**(Verse 2)**

Your young'un begs for bread, you hand 'em hard stone,

A cruel kinda twist, a heart ice-cold, alone.

"Good ol' boys" on Sundays, a rotten disguise,

While innocence bleeds, under these Houston skies.

**(Chorus)**

Millstone bound, Gulf's cold, dark hold,

No cries of sorrow, in this story untold.

Better listen close, breathe air instead of stone,

Than face the storm of wrath, that you have sown.

**(Bridge)**

Redemption's a whisper, on the humid night air,

A chance to turn back, from vengeance's snare.

These young'uns in Houston, their futures at stake,

Choose the path of mercy, for goodness' own sake.

**(Outro)**

Millstone or mercy, the choice you must make,

In this Houston heat, your soul's gonna break.

But the children are callin', their voices so clear,

Will you answer their plea, or let darkness draw near?