| We were marching from Montgomery
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| Alabama, '65
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| Freedom riders, Jim Crow heroes
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| Come to keep the faith alive
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| We were picking Southern cotton
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| Registration for the vote
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| We were one then
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| We were young then
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| When black &white still spoke
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| Now it’s all gone to pieces
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| God alone knows why
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| Just a story they call history
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| Written down in black &white
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| And we set aside our anger
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| And we set aside our fears
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| And we built a common future
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| On the bedrock of our tears
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| And we marched for the children
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| And the millions without hope
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| We agreed to believe
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| When black &white still spoke
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| Now it’s all gone to pieces
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| God alone knows why
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| Just a story they call history
|
| Written down in black &white
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| Nothing’s sadder than the man who
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| Thinks he’s free when he is chained
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| To the prison of his hatred
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| And a dream gone up in flames
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| Colored only at the fountains
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| Congregations, soda shops
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| Colored only in the bathrooms
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| And the cemetery lots
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| And if Jesus was a black man
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| Or as white as Sambo’s grin
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| It’s his words that we’d remember
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| Not the color of his skin
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| It’s all gone to pieces
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| God alone knows why
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| Just a story they call history
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| Written down in black &white |