There's a river running sweat right through our land,
Driven by a man with a bullwhip in his hand
And I've taken just as much as I can stand.
Oh, we've got to free our brothers from their
Shackles if we can.
Most nights I have to watch my woman cry,
Every day I watch the colonel smile,
His painted ladies riding in from town
I swear one day I'm gonna burn that whore
House to the ground.
To fight the violence we must be brave,
Hold on strong
To the love God gave, slave.
There's a rumor of a war that's yet to come
That may free our families and our sons,
It may lay green lands to barren wastes,
The price of release is a bitter blow to face.