| 'Twas down in Mississippi no so long ago
 | 
| When a young boy from Chicago town stepped through a Southern door
 | 
| This boy’s dreadful tragedy I can still remember well
 | 
| The color of his skin was black and his name was Emmett Till
 | 
| Some men they dragged him to a barn and there they beat him up
 | 
| They said they had a reason, but I can’t remember what
 | 
| They tortured him and did some things too evil to repeat
 | 
| There was screaming sounds inside the barn, there was laughing sounds out on
 | 
| the street
 | 
| Then they rolled his body down a gulf amidst a bloody red rain
 | 
| And they threw him in the waters wide to cease his screaming pain
 | 
| The reason that they killed him there, and I’m sure it ain’t no lie
 | 
| Was just for the fun of killing' him and to watch him slowly die
 | 
| And then to stop, the United States of yelling for a trial
 | 
| Two brothers they confessed that they had killed poor Emmett Till
 | 
| But on the jury there were men who helped the brothers commit this awful crime
 | 
| And so this trial was a mockery, but nobody there seemed to mind
 | 
| I saw the morning papers but I could not bear, to see
 | 
| The smiling brothers walking' down the courthouse stairs
 | 
| For the jury found them innocent and the brothers they went free
 | 
| While Emmett’s body floats the foam of a Jim Crow southern sea
 | 
| If you can’t speak out against this kind of thing, a crime that’s so unjust
 | 
| Your eyes are filled with dead men’s dirt, your mind is filled with dust
 | 
| Your arms and legs they must be in shackles and chains, and your blood it must
 | 
| refuse to flow
 | 
| For you to let this human race fall down so God-awful low!
 | 
| This song’s just a reminder to remind your fellow man
 | 
| That this kind of thing still lives today in that ghost-robed Ku Klux Klan
 | 
| But if all of us folks that thinks alike, if we gave all we could give
 | 
| We could make this great land of ours a greater place to live |