Trayvon’s Fake Witness

To the tune of Patsy Cline’s “She’s Got You”

I’ve got to say something to Diamond Eugene.
It’s already past time for you to come clean,
Trayvon’s best witness,
The race merchants knew,
Might have used your name, but she’s not you.

That girl outweighs you by almost nine stone,
And that was not her voice that we heard on the phone.
A dull imitation.
The media knew:
The girl on the stand there was surely not you.

You were two-timing Trayvon, and he went mad,
And it’s so sad
That your bad, bad boy lost his head.

At least to your credit, you wouldn’t lie,
So they found a poor stand-in to give it a try.
Trayvon’s best witness,
The race merchants knew,
Might have used your name, but she’s not you.

You were two-timing Trayvon, and he went mad,
And it’s so sad that your bad, bad boy lost his head.
They’re still stoking a race war; you tell me why
That they seem so hell bent to see democracy die.
Oh, Trayvon’s best witness,
The race merchants knew,
Might have used your name, but she’s not you.

David Martin

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