Brian Dyin’
I realized young that in a foreign land
I would have been a criminal, a different kind of man
And my life lived out loud and the crazy things I did
Would be the life I lived in shadows, be the life I hid
But when I saw you boys playing soldier running towards the Dome
A voice inside my head whispered,
That’s my home
That’s my home
I’ve spent my life pushing back at the government
Trying to honor the things my mother meant
When she said all grace is heaven-sent
And we are all equal in God’s eye
I got an FBI file as long as my arm
I got friends in prison for just working a farm
I got my father in mind – thirty years on the force
Who was the authority while his son was the source
Of agitation, confrontation and liberation in the course
Of getting high.
Very high.
But when I saw your revolution on T.V.
That same voice whispered,
That’s not me and never will be
That’s just a mob that murdered a cop
Who was doing his job when he told you to stop
So you grabbed an extinguisher and extinguished the cop
His name was Brian
And though you say you have no piece in it
Brian dyin’.
You little piece of shit
He loved his dogs, his family said
He loved his family, now he’s dead
Because your mob crushed in his head
Brian dyin’, What more can be said?
When you killed a cop just because
I saw for the first time what a traitor was
And Brian dyin’, just because
Made me see what treason does
Traitor is the only word that will do
Look up “traitor” in the dictionary
And you find you.
For Brian Sicknick (1978-2021) and my Father
by Rick Cusick