the ticketseller’s terrified nhaunted by his dreams nof half-empty trains nrolling out from New Orleans nand the hundreds who came begging nbut were harshly turned away nhow many of them died n'cause they could not afford to pay? nthree days warning nthe suburbs turned to ghost towns nsecond cars left locked in driveways nwhile in the city people drowned nbecause they had no escape nfrom the fury of the sea nwhat happened here was murder nit was no simple tragedy. nngood morning america nhow did you get this way? naverted eyes and centuries of chains nhere comes the story of the hurricane nand the thousands dead in the city by the sea nmurdered by our greed in new orleans nnif you’re black then you’re a looter nif you’re white you’re finding food ni ask myself what i’d have done in any of their shoes? nwould i have thought about my neighbors in the other part of town nwould i know any of their names? would i have dared to stick around? nyou can blame the president nor you can blame the sea nbut they were murdered by the culture nof this economy nmurdered by our fear nand our apathy nthey were murdered by you nthey were murdered by me nnwe lay in your bed naked and we watched it on tv nas the soldiers and the cops marched past the dead bodies nthey were only there protecting private property ni felt sickened by the sight and sickened by my memory nof the miles that i’d driven and the gasoline i’d had burned nof the love songs that i’d written, and the money that i’d earned nhow can we go on living our lives the same way? nhow can we keep pretending that we are not part of their game? n