| When footsteps from that Sunday march faded out into the dark
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| The melody blows in to ease the pain
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| Two thousand years and we’re still here fighting over the same old fear
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| The muddy steps of hate can’t stand this rain
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| I’ll stand up on this stage as if it was my altar
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| I’ll face down all the rage and no, I will not falter
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| Say I’m good enough to play but not good enough to stay
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| In your heart
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| The mat on the floor says welcome, the sign on the door says no
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| Says 'No coloreds allowed unless you’re playing in the show'
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| Well I’ve never seen a color except the ones up in the sky
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| When I see this kind of hatred I die a little inside
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| I’ll stand up on this stage as if it was altar
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| I’ll face down all this rage and no, I will not falter
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| Say I’m good enough to play but not good enough to stay
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| And when you finish your song boy you’ve got to be on your way
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| But if I’m good enough to play then I’m good enough to stay
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| In your heart
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| This one’s for the Godfather, Duke, Ella, and the Count
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| And for all those who fought their way here no matter the amount
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| For all of God’s children walking through dumpsters in the back
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| Had to finish their show and leave just because their skin was black
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| They stood up on the stage as if it was their altar
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| They faced down all the rage and no, they did not falter
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| They were good enough to play but not good enough to stay
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| And when they finished their songs boy they had to be on their way
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| They were good enough to play and somehow they’ve always stayed
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| In our hearts
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| And if I’m good enough to play then we’ve got to find the space
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| In our hearts |