It's heard, the Klansmen galloping down
Red, the dust their hooves have blown
Loud, the lashing of their steel
Dim, the terror they conceal
Mad was the moon when Michael died
Chill were his thighs against the clay
Never more to know the day
Dry was his tongue against the mold
Never to be growing old
But once his men had riding tall
Now all his blood upon our hands
It's woah, woah, woah, and woah, I'm calling
Twelve wild winds are loudly raging
Nine salt seas are deeply boiling
Six dark swans are fiercely reeling
Three cold graves are numbly wailing
Blue, the hooded eyes that blind
Blonde, the sour ties that bind
White, mushroom faces leer
Red, the flaming cross they bare
Black was the sun when Andrew died
Chill were his eyes against the clay
Never more to see the day
Cold were his loins against the loan
Never to be going home
But once his men had riding tall
Now all his blood upon our hands
It's woah, woah, woah, and woah, I'm calling
Twelve wild winds are loudly raging
Nine salt seas are deeply boiling
Six dark swans are fiercely reeling
Three cold graves are numbly wailing
It's one, the wizard, high on his throne
Two, the whispers he has moaned
Three, the bodies underground
Four, the freedoms never found
Five, their senses never more
And six, their parents on the shore
It's homey bells for James who died
Chill as his groin against the clay
Never more to feel the day
But once his men had riding tall
Now all his blood upon our hands
It's woah, woah, woah, and woah, I'm calling
Twelve wild winds are loudly raging
Nine salt seas are deeply boiling
Six dark swans are fiercely reeling
Three cold graves are numbly wailing
Red, the dust their hooves have blown
Loud, the lashing of their steel
Dim, the terror they conceal
Mad was the moon when Michael died
Chill were his thighs against the clay
Never more to know the day
Dry was his tongue against the mold
Never to be growing old
But once his men had riding tall
Now all his blood upon our hands
It's woah, woah, woah, and woah, I'm calling
Twelve wild winds are loudly raging
Nine salt seas are deeply boiling
Six dark swans are fiercely reeling
Three cold graves are numbly wailing
Blue, the hooded eyes that blind
Blonde, the sour ties that bind
White, mushroom faces leer
Red, the flaming cross they bare
Black was the sun when Andrew died
Chill were his eyes against the clay
Never more to see the day
Cold were his loins against the loan
Never to be going home
But once his men had riding tall
Now all his blood upon our hands
It's woah, woah, woah, and woah, I'm calling
Twelve wild winds are loudly raging
Nine salt seas are deeply boiling
Six dark swans are fiercely reeling
Three cold graves are numbly wailing
It's one, the wizard, high on his throne
Two, the whispers he has moaned
Three, the bodies underground
Four, the freedoms never found
Five, their senses never more
And six, their parents on the shore
It's homey bells for James who died
Chill as his groin against the clay
Never more to feel the day
But once his men had riding tall
Now all his blood upon our hands
It's woah, woah, woah, and woah, I'm calling
Twelve wild winds are loudly raging
Nine salt seas are deeply boiling
Six dark swans are fiercely reeling
Three cold graves are numbly wailing
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2019/10/19 - 22:54
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Scritta da Richard Fariña, musicalmente concepita come un'antica ballata inglese
Nel suo album intitolato " Celebrations for a Grey Day", con la moglie Mimi, sorella di Joan Baez
Con altre come Goodman and Schwerner and Chaney, Those Three Are On My Mind, In the Mississippi River e What's Goin' on Down There, ancora una canzone dedicata Michael Schwerner, Andrew Goodman e James Chaney.
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Andrew Goodman, aveva 20 anni, era un bianco, ebreo, studiava antropologia a New York.
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Il 21 giugno i tre giovani furono arrestati dalla polizia locale, costituita interamente da attivisti del KKK. Furono trattenuti e poi rilasciati, ma la loro auto fu inseguita da un commando dei suprematisti bianchi, costretta a fermarsi e i tre ragazzi furono selvaggiamente pestati e poi assassinati a colpi di pistola.
Gli assassini, i poliziotti stessi e altri membri del KKK, furono perseguiti ma condannati a pene lievissime. Solo tra il 2004 e il 2007 chi di quei bastardi era sopravvissuto fu finalmente condannato per gli omicidi commessi 40 anni prima.
Edgar Ray Killen, all'epoca leader locale del KKK, fu condannato nel 2005 a 60 anni di reclusione, 20 per ognuna delle vittime. E' morto in carcere nel 2018, a 93 anni...
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