I like it    I don't like it

He was my brother

Five years older than I

He was my brother

Twenty-three Years old the day he died



Freedom writer

They cursed my brother to his face

Go home outsider

This town's gonna be your buryin' place



He was singin' on his knees

An angry mob trailed along

They shot my brother dead

Because he hated what was wrong



He was my brother

Tears can't bnng him back to me

He was my brother

And he died so his brothers could be free

He died so his brothers could be free