If the streets could scream we would hear them say
Our history bleeds and reveals the world at play
The little children running in fear
With adults yelling in their ears
"You were born the wicked race"
Racing away from the hate
Discrimination seemed to take its place.
On the streets that were loud, shaken and bruised
We'll never know the truths
In the streets of Montgomery we never really knew
What stories lie with the swinging bodies
Never touching the ground as they hang
Droplets of blood falling from their face
Words left their lungs as cries
But words left their hears as psalms and goodbyes
The people looked with no dire need...
but their history has left a dent in the crisis
and their hearts have been left to rest.
The bricks that have watched it all
Tortured people cling on so they don't fall
Knowing that their purity has come to rot
Like the skin on their bodies which fall hard,
Beaten with rock, burned alive, stays fresh
not only were these victims innocent
But were their prosecutors heartless?
They knew what they did wrong and confessed
"That was their way of living", they said.
But it doesn't justify the aggression and craze,
TWO CENTURIES of feared freed slaves
Freed slaves would be treated the best
If their lives would not be killed for "stealing"
A white woman's breath.