I drive through the south
And the thoughts start to spill
All of the slaves tortured, raped, beaten and killed.
Their souls infest this astral plane
Forever tortured, they will not remain.
Their stories will fill my ears.
I sniff the air for the faintest notion of their pain.
I’ll try to give them a voice,
Silent so long they have lain
I look at the swamps, their bodies were slain
I see the trees, hung bodies, hugged at the knees
Hold the body steady, while I cut it down
Look at the blood, all over the ground.
Let’s not lie, and say hatred is past
I think that there still are
Many questions to be asked.
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