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
The yshot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can`t bring 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
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