| Countryside was cold and still
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| And there were three crosses on the hill
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| And each one wore a burning hood
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| To hide its rotten core of wood
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| And I say «father, father, I hear an iron sound»
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| Hoof beats on the frozen ground
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| And downhill the riders came
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| Lord it was a cryin' shame
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| To see the blood upon their whips
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| And to hear the snarlin' from their lips
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| And I cried «mother, mother, I feel a stabbing pain»
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| Blood runs down like summers rain
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| And each one wore a mask of white
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| To hide his cruel face from sight
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| And each one sucked a hungry breath
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| Out of the empty lungs of death
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| And I say sister, sister, I need you to take my hand
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| It’s always lonely when it’s time to stand
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| He who rides with the klan
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| Is a devil and not a man
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| For underneath his white disguise
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| I have looked into his eyes
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| And I say brother, brother, stand by me
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| It’s not so easy to be free
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| Father, mother, sister, brother, stand by me
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| It’s not so easy to be free
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| It’s not so easy to be free
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| It’s not so easy to be free
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| And nobody ever said it would be easy
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| And nobody ever said it would be easy
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| It’s not so easy to be free
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| It’s not so easy to be free
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| It’s not so easy, no it’s not so easy |