Simple to say, this thing called truth,
open expression of the soul,
nothing to hide for any cause,
this boy would never tell a lie.
So this knight lifted paper sword,
pledging on gallant knee to speak
the truth no matter what strength or
courage was needed for the test.
Truth is something good men live for,
truth is honor to boldly seek,
not to fear but always desire,
a brand to burn in freedom's fire
and if you wear red, white and blue,
everything you do is true
and righteous in the eyes of God
who loves us more than other men.
Red men were savages to kill,
black men were born to till our soil,
slanted eyes we kept in cages,
all is fair in love and oil.
And now our junior beacon glows,
blue star drawn on field of white,
free at last is their cry to God
who loves them even more than us.
My childhood sword was tarnished
in the blood at Wounded Knee.
My fear I lost in Rosewood shame,
and truth I found at Deir Yassin.
If truth be the cause I die for,
let me serve truth on humble knee.
If truth be the sword that slay me,
please God, let Palestine be free
