Tell me the story of the boy who smiled when the sun touched his face, when his mother laughed when his father pushed him on the swings.

    Tell me the story of the boy who made friends like I make corpses, quickly and without anyone noticing.

    Tell me the story of the young man who listened to songs his parents called profane, sacrilegious. Those melodies made him pray, contrary to his mother's beliefs, they turned his mind to holy things. The drummer was the preacher, the lead singer screamed out sermons.

     Tell me the story of the teenager who saw his world crumbling, tell me how he had ideas but was deemed too young to influence the world, though he lived in it.

    Tell me how he became a graffiti prophet, his warnings spray-painted onto sidewalks and train cars, hoping that his message would be seen and listened to.He still listened to the songs, but he realized that they had a different meaning, and that realization brought him to his knees.

     He screams the lyrics until his voice is hoarse, till his mother yells, his father takes his speakers away.He still finds redemption in the rhymes, still tries to make his difference.

                            Sing me his song