There's a burning cross on a hillside. 

Still bright after all these years. 

And you want to just smile and ignore it, but I hear your fucking fear. 

I don't believe that anything's changed, at least not for the better. 

I don't believe that anything's changed, and nothing's getting better. 

Dead words from a different time still can boil blood, 

still have the power to crucify on a fence in America. 

And the words you say are still smoldering. 

And those crosses are still burning.