The Launderer

We only fought for freedoms that were never out of reach
We couldn't tell the difference between property and speech
We sided with the owners when provided with the bleach
We cleaned the sheets, pink water was released
We found a vacant storefront where the barrio recedes
We found our fellow travelers
Our words turned into deeds
We never turned a profit, but we opened up new markets
And invented several reeds
The edge cuts, but never bleeds
So discontented seeds grow the same trees
They grow the same trees
(The shade trees)
There's a tortuous path that old money must take
To find its way back to the mile on the lake
Thousands of stories have followed that line
Come sit by the fire and listen to mine