Oh, say, can’t you see, by the Brown Indian’s plight?
Generations derailed, as the valiant died screaming.
Genocide by the sword, in the name of The Lord.
And the vampires gorged, on the flesh of young seedlings.
But the Prophets said, “Fear—not, the day shall appear,
When the Murderer’s reign, will have ceased once again."
Oh say, does the Blood of the Innocent stain--
O'er the Land of The Thief and the Home of The Slave?
On the eyes it would seem, this was all but a dream
But Broken-winged birds still fly, on the winds that life brings
When I think of the people who suffered before me
Little Black boys and girls, who died sullied and stolen
Though the Caged Bird can’t fly, it will cry, pray and sing
Toward the day when all life shall remember The King
Oh say, does the Blood of the Innocent stain--
O'er the Land of The Thief and the Home of The Slave?
Where are those that would call ugliness by its name?
Who will stand up for freedom and justice the same?
When the long day has gone, and the cold night done came
Who’ll remember to sing of the sufferahs pain?
In the valley of dark, in the shadow of death
Will your light be my compass? Will you love me no less?
Oh say, does the Blood of the Innocent stain--
O'er the Land of The Thief and the Home of The Slave?
Do you remember that day? Do you remember that night?
When the heavens and earth joined as one for your life?
There was blood; there was war. There was life there was death.
All the ancestors gathered to pray forth your blessing.
There’s a portion of triumph that’s yours all alone
Victory is your name so remember your throne
Oh say, does the Blood of the Innocent stain--
O'er the Land of The Thief and the Home of The Slave?
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