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We lost the war, but not the faith,

Our hands still strong, our hearts still wraiths.

The flags came down, the cross came up,

We sipped revenge from Dixie’s cup.

The fields still whisper, the soil still knows,

What grows from blood is what God sows.

You freed their flesh, but not their role

We just taught shame to touch the soul.

They came in wagons, suits, and pens,

To teach us grace, to cleanse our sins.

But sin’s a shadow made of steel

We shaped it fresh with every deal.

We let them vote, we let them learn,

Then lit the schools to watch them burn.

The Lord said “guide,” we heard “erase,”

The cross don’t mind if it’s on fire,

It sings the louder for the pyre.

Each Negro swinging feeds the breeze

A holy hymn among the trees.

We built our pulpits out of pine,

Hung gospel high, let ropes align.

Look to Hills, There they run!

The blue coats left, their chests puffed wide,

Proclaimed us changed, then let it slide.

They fed us funds, then shut their eyes,

While we dug graves beneath their lies.

We wore new laws like Sunday suits,

But danced the same old lynching roots.

We called it “order,” called it “grace,”

And smiled while wiping out a race.

Redemption ain’t a prayer or psalm

It’s railroads built with broken backs,

It’s sharecropped fields and midnight attacks.

It’s daughters shamed, and sons undone,

It’s praising God with a smoking gun.

We kneel at pews, we clutch our pearls,

Then we send our hounds to chase their girls.

We lost the war, but kept the plan

To kill the beast and cage the man.

So raise the cross and raise it high

Let’s crucify them till they die.