Home on the Rage

It’s hard to love something that don’t love you back
Your dream’s been their nightmare, there’s bones ‘neath the track
Was it evil in their hearts or restraint that they lack?
I never love a land that didn’t love me back
Ten generations on land that they stole
Torched the prairie for plantation, they broke the mountains for coal
I ask what’s worth keeping, can we be proud of what’s fair?
Oh, it ten generations, just gasping for air
It’s hard to speak highly of what keeps you down
There’s blood on the cotton, stone graves on the mound
My conscience is woven to the rope on the bow
So keep your eye on the light and your hand on the plow
I seek to conserve in nothing but name
We know Rome’s been burning, and we play a rigged game
Our heritage is hate, though there’s plenty to save
How can the land of the free be the home of the slave?
Is this the land of the free?