That Was the Voice

That was the Voice;
He called me faggot
When I went out for cigarettes.
He came out of the shadows
And he sentenced me to death.
He cracked a baseball bat across my faggot's ass
And further away I heard his woman laugh.
I didn't see his face, I didn't get that choice,
But I'd know him anywhere by his voice.
If he had his little moustache,
Well, I might have laughed,
But he was strong, white, and sudden.
He was a goon with a bat.
He attacked with his ignorance, his religion,
And he struck with his politics by superstition.
All these issues they were black and white.
He made it crystal clear this was my Crystal Night.
From Tian An Men Square to Romania
To the jails of South America,
Or South Africa's Kangaroo Court,
Or between my house and the liquor store,
There's a little man with a little hat,
He's got secret police, he's got surprise attacks,
He's got tanks, guns, troops and gas.
He's got homophobes and baseball bats.