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The Darkness of Blackness

Rev. Robert B. Jones Sr.
Lingua: Inglese


Rev. Robert B. Jones Sr.


Melville told a tale of a preacher who cried
Preaching to the men who’d come in on the tide.
They were tired and hungry and broken inside.
And he preached them the blackness of darkness.

And their sons and their daughters walked down the same road
Never knowing a life without burden or a load
But still from their hearts, you know, love overflowed
As they lived through the darkness of blackness.

Forget not our fathers who were hung from the trees
Forget not our mothers who prayed on their knees
For the greatest of us is still lesser than these
Who lived through the darkness of blackness.

And our fathers were feared even though they wore chains
Feared from their muscle, and feared from their brains
For when all else was gone still the darkness remained
And they taught us the strength of blackness

And with strong able women our fathers were blessed
And their beauty showed through even shabbily dressed
For a queen wearing rags is a queen nonetheless
They taught us the beauty of blackness.

Forget not our fathers who were hung from the trees
Forget not our mothers who prayed on their knees
For the greatest of us is still lesser than these
Who lived through the darkness of blackness.

And our fathers built houses by the strength of their hands
Just to see them burned down by the knights of the Klan
But they look up to Heaven and they built them again
And they fought back the darkness of blackness

They fought it with sinew, and they fought it with bone
And they fought it together , and they fought it alone
And they fought it with marching , and they fought it with song
They fought back the darkness of blackness

Forget not our fathers who were hung from the trees
Forget not our mothers who prayed on their knees
For the greatest of us is still lesser than these
Who lived through the darkness of blackness.

And you rise never knowing quite what to expect
And you rise in the morning demanding respect
And you rise in spite of the knee on your neck
When you live in the darkness of blackness

One day when our fathers we meet face to face
Though some sons be addicted and some daughters debased
Let us not have to say when they ask of the race
That we fell to the blackness of darkness

Forget not our fathers who were hung from the trees
Forget not our mothers who prayed on their knees
For the greatest of us is still lesser than these
Who lived through the darkness of blackness
Who lived through the darkness of blackness
Who lived through the darkness of blackness.



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