Too much hypocrisy 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

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 brother was hung?

Is this the ground where is body was burnt?

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

because we'll be pushing up daisies in the ending

Spirit knows no color either you're a hater or a lover

[chorus]