When Sister Rosa sat on that bus, she didn’t sit alone,
She had the visible image of the Master on the high throne.
There were passengers on that bus that no eye could see,
She was riding with people who had never been free.
Their time had come to sit and ride anywhere,
The day was now with no time to spare.
Cottin pickin’ time had lasted for hundreds of years,
So taking a seat anywhere was without fear
Ridin’ didn’t quench the thirst of the workers of the fields
They needed more of what a water fountain could give
With their brow, so hot none wanted to think,
They sighted God’
The clothes got wet but not the souls
From the forceful pouring of the hoses
The spirits were ne’er dampened
Though evil attempts were rampant
Flames were fueled and denied shame
To lay hands on the real aged old blame
Overcoming second class citizenry
Ne’er use the killing children bombs
We march
We sing
We cry
No more
No more
No more
‘Cause we’re ready to die
Believe it and that’s no lie
Change the guard
Here comes a new age start!!!
From: Morning Promises & My Evening Songs
Copyright 2004, Evelyn Dilworth-Williams
