In the gloomy darkness of the crisis that is Detroit

The 1960s is disastrous for a city who would exploit

The people, especially Squanch, struggling in his 1 dollar home

A little box so small, he knew he should've moved to Rome.

Yet the Aftermath was yet to come

Squanch didn’t really know where he was from

He kept having his morning crock, so good yet tiring

Yet he kept his guard up, for a place that could be hiring.

Squanch kept moving on desperately trying to make it by

He always questioned, who would leave him here, just why

Yet this city so gloomy, is so unforgiving

He sometimes wondered if this nightmare was worth living.

As the morning rose in the crisis that was Detroit

The 1960s was disastrous for a city who would exploit

Tearing apart from the inside in half, Squanch should've known

In his little box so small, moving alone into the unknown.