The Metal in Stone

I live in a city called Stone
Ruled by those on the throne
Seventy miles from a freshwater lake
102,000 lives at stake
Her dolly's head bounces as she runs down the hall
Her brown hands bang the cracked wall
"Up," she says, two feet tall
I lift her, and let her drink
Her fill of water from the kitchen sink
Yellow, from rust, I think
But I'm wrong, so I cry and shout,
"Please, take the metal out!"
Out of our water and out of our brains
Clean the river, and remove the stains
From our trust and the bread in our basket
Dolly's beside her, in her two foot casket
"Only four!" I scream, as I cut a lock of her hair
Black and curly and ready to share
But who says the world is fair
And who chose the dress she'd wear
And who says they should care
Who will make them care?
Those sitting on the throne
Who will make them care?
That there's metal in Stone

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