Too much hypocracy In this old southern town for me Way back in 1619 began This tragic story Thrown into slavery the crime Was the color of skin Never to see the light of the past again
Chorus: I wanna go where the mountains are high enough to echo my song I wanna go where the rivers run deep enough to drown my shame I wanna go where the stars shine bright enough to show me the way And I wanna go where the wind calls my name The wind is calling India India India
It's a typical Savannah day So I take my guitar to the park and I play Sitting up under the live oak tree The strangest feeling came over me Is this the tree where my borther was hung? Is this the ground where his body was burned? God gave to me the gift of song So I dedicate this one
Chorus
Superiority, who have you better than me Wasting precious time on racist mentality This is only the beginning The flesh we'll be pushing up daisies in the end Cause spirit knows no color Either you're a hater or a lover
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Copy to Clipboard: Too much hypocracy In this old southern town for me Way back in 1619 began This tragic story Thrown into slavery the crime Was the color of skin Never to see the light of the past again
Chorus: I wanna go where the mountains are high enough to echo my song I wanna go where the rivers run deep enough to drown my shame I wanna go where the stars shine bright enough to show me the way And I wanna go where the wind calls my name The wind is calling India India India
It's a typical Savannah day So I take my guitar to the park and I play Sitting up under the live oak tree The strangest feeling came over me Is this the tree where my borther was hung? Is this the ground where his body was burned? God gave to me the gift of song So I dedicate this one
Chorus
Superiority, who have you better than me Wasting precious time on racist mentality This is only the beginning The flesh we'll be pushing up daisies in the end Cause spirit knows no color Either you're a hater or a lover
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