Written by Ren Michael
As I listen to your wisdom and all the things you hold dear
I hear the persistence of your resistance and your fears
As you call me daughter, as you call me son
You’d do well to remember, friend, I’m not the only one.
We’ve heard your words, we’ve heard your demands
Looked long into your heart as we sought to understand
Now I hear the bell toll, I feel a million hearts pound
Take a seat, please, dear man. Listen to me now
You sing of the good times. What times were those?
Long before my time, but I recognize the eyes of Jim Crow
Deny it all day and say I’m opening wounds
As you continue the tune, play ol’ Jim’s fool
You say there’ll always be poor folk beside the sick and unnamed
Shaped by their refusal to play by the rules of the game
One day they’ll rise and defy all your wars
And you’ll be the one who lives by the gun, as they inherit the world.
Well I seek the dream, the creed taught to you and me
For all the huddled masses yearning to breathe free
A place to call home without fences and walls
For all the tired and poor, and justice for all.
You say life’s a struggle, an era’s bygone
We need some law and order, there’s just one side to be on
Go on grab your raincoat man, I think I hear the thunder roll
But as ever, friend, you know I’ll catch you at the end of the road