| I was born a black boy
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| My name is Emmett Till
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| I walked this earth for 14 years
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| Then one night I was killed
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| For speaking to a woman
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| Whose skin was white as dough
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| That’s a sin in Mississippi
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| But how was I to know?
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| I’d come down from Chicago
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| To visit with my kin
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| Up there I was a cheeky kid
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| I guess I always been
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| But the harm they put upon me
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| Was too hard for what I’d done
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| For I was just a black boy
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| I never hurt no one
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| They took me from my uncle’s house
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| Mose Wright was his name
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| He’d later stand and without hesitation
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| Point the blame
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| At the ones who beat and cut me
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| And shot me with a gun
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| And threw me in the river
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| Like I was trash when they were done
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| I was sent back to my mother
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| At least what was left of me
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| She kept my casket open
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| For the whole wide world to see
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| The awful desecration
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| And the evidence of hate
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| You could not recognize me
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| The mutilation was so great
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| There came a cry for justice
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| To be finally fulfilled
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| All because of me, a black boy
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| My name is Emmett Till
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| Oh, but I’d have rather lived
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| 'Til I was too old to die young
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| Not miss all I left behind
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| And all that might have come
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| The summer clouds above my head
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| The grass beneath my feet
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| The warmth of a good woman
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| Her kisses soft and sweet
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| Perhaps to be a father
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| With a black boy of my own
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| Watch him grow into a kinder world
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| Than I had known
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| Where no child would be murdered
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| For the color of his skin
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| And love would be the only thing
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| Inside the hearts of men
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| They say the horror of that night
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| Is haunting Heaven still
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| Where I am one more black boy
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| My name is Emmett Till |