Words to a song I wrote:

Nothin' but the sound of feet hittin' the ground
In a march for the freedom of the town
I'm black spent,
I'm not bent
I'm invested in their cause, I am
Like a bridge and a twirl,
Over a lake . . . with waters a-swirl
And, then I'm on the other side, I am
Safe and dry
Though I learned to cry
And my tears filled the river just crossed
No more: White-bossed
No more: Torn n' tossed
No more: Cause that's lost
Nothin' but the sound of feet hittin' the ground
In a march for the freedom of the town
Nothin' but the sound of feet hittin' the ground
In a march for the freedom of the town
They hit the bridge
They march across
And they land . . . at last on the other side
In a land of justice
They had no justice
Until the feet on the bridge turned the tide
Beneath our feet is a river
And the tide can turn
If our feet pound a beat
And it sounds so neat
And . . .  black justice  the nation will learn
Nothin' but the sound of feet hittin' the ground
In a march for the freedom of the town
Nothin' but the sound of feet hittin' the ground
In a march for the freedom of the town
No more: White-bossed
No more: Torn n' tossed
No more: Cause that's lost
Nothin' but the sound of feet hittin' the ground
In a march for the freedom of the town
Nothin' but the sound of feet hittin' the ground
In a march for the freedom of the town
In a land of justice
They had no justice
Until the feet on the bridge turned the tide
Nothin' but the sound of feet hitting the ground
In a cause . . . that would not be denied
Nothin' but the sound of feet hittin' the ground
In a march for the freedom of the town
Nothin' but the sound of feet hittin' the ground
In a march for the freedom of the town