Dr. King, Sir, Reverend

Brandon Whitt

I hear the annoying sound of ambulance In the heat of the night Wondering again why it’s blaring outside my door I should never have to wonder If my kids will ever have to wonder the same thing

You told millions one day about a dream you had It was a good dream. I’m not patronizing you I just wish more people would have listened Millions heard your dream But the majority were only hearers, they never Did anything about it They said it was their dream, they claimed It had become their own How could they all forget so easily? They let your dream die with you I hate that Not for you, but for me For my children

They didn’t listen to you, Reverend None of them did, it had nothing To do with the color of their skin They became guilty of wrongful deeds They ate of that tree you told them not to eat of They satisfied their thirst for freedom premature On the cup of bitterness and hatred

We’ve inherited their sin nature It’s been passed along, we delude ourselves Into thinking that we haven’t even noticed And even now I can only dream Of when all God’s children can sing together With new meaning,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring

I’m not going to be scared anymore, no. I’m not Going to lie in my bed all day to escape the reality That things haven’t changed, our grandparents Haven’t changed, that my generation is no different Than yours

You had a dream, I have a dream, Of an oasis of freedom and justice, of children playing together, but Dreams drain the spirit if we dream too long