In 1600 I was a darkie
Until 1865, a slave
In 1900 I was a [bad word] Or at least, that was my name

In 1960 I was a negro
And then brother [bad word] came along
And then some [bad word] shot [bad word] down
But the bitter [bad word] lives on

Martin is dead
With Martin as our leader
We prayed, and marched
And marched, and prayed
Things were changing
Things were getting better
But things were not together

With [bad word] as our leader,
We learned
And thought
And thought we had learned
Things were better
Things were changing
But things were not together

And now it is your turn,
We are tired of praying, and marching, and thinking, and learning
Brothers wanna start cutting, and shooting, and stealing, and burning
You are three hundred years ahead in equality
But next summer may be too late
To look back

In 1600 I was a darkie
And until 1865 a slave
In 1900 I was a [bad word] Or at least that was my name

In 1960 I was a negro
And then [bad word] came along
Yes, but some [bad word] shot [bad word] down
Though the bitter [bad word] lives on

Well now I am a black man
And though I still go second class
Where as once I wanted the white man's love
Now he can kiss my [bad word]