Hop hop hop

The sun beats down on my weary back,
Cotton fields stretch white and vast,
I sing to breathe, I sing to stand,
My voice is all they couldn’t command.

My name is dust upon this land,
But the earth still knows my hands,
When morning bells cut through my sleep,
I wake with songs my soul must keep.

Chains may hold my flesh in place,
But they can’t silence hope or grace,
The elders say the song can fly,
Higher than the crack of the sky.

Row by row, the cotton grows,
Day by day, the sorrow knows,
They count my work, they count my pain,
Not the dreams I still retain.

When night arrives, our voices blend,
Broken songs that twist and bend,
We whisper “freedom” soft and low,
A secret word they’ll never own.

They say this world was made this way,
But my song says it won’t stay,
If I fall before the dawn,
Let my voice still travel on.

The master walks, his shadow tall,
But time will judge and watch him fall,
My song outlives his cruel command,
No chain can hold a song or man.

Le 12 décembre 2025 à 06:46:01 :
ok j'y vais

Bon Tobi