Freedom riders, Jim Crow heroes,
come to keep the faith alive
We were picking Southern cotton,
registration for the vote
Now it's all gone to pieces
Just a story they call history
written down in black & white
And we set aside our anger,
and we set aside our fears
And we built a common future
on the bedrock of our tears
And we marched for the children
and the millions without hope
when black & white still spoke
Now it's all gone to pieces
Just a story they call history
Nothing's sadder than the man who
thinks he's free when he is chained
to the prison of his hatred
and a dream gone up in flames
Colored only at the fountains,
congregations, soda shops
Colored only in the bathrooms
And if Jesus was a black man
or as white as Sambo's grin
it's his words that we'd remember
not the color of his skin
Just a story they call history