I can hear your cornstalk sigh underneath your prayer sky.
Southern swamps have footsteps filled and hound dogs howl at freedom's will.
Conscience drives us mad sometimes.
Tell our sons if we die, we're gonna die.
So we start where we can and hope it spreads across the land.
(Chorus) It's not easy taking prisoners.
Harder yet is to convert them to your cause.
John Brown left his Red Creek Engine house bound up in chains.
Leaving five men dead he said, the good lord was to blame.
John Brown, your twenty sons, why don't you tell me what you've done.
You don't think you're men no more, you're God's machines in holy wars.
And by some strange irony, that you shot dead harmony.
An angry mob came into play.
The lord works in mysterious ways.
(Chorus) It's not easy taking prisoners.
Harder yet is to convert them to your cause.
John Brown left his Red Creek Engine house bound up in chains.
Leaving five men dead he said, the good lord was to blame.
I'm a reasonable man, yeah I am, and I understand the problem.
Sometimes you got to take the world and put it in your hand.
You bring it to tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Freedom's just a silly word, keeps us bound up pretty good.
Peace of mind for tired hands.
Is a cold heart what the lord demands?
Don't be fooled by bravery, we're all in chains of slavery.
John Brown, your twenty sons are dead, face down in the mud.
(Chorus) It's not easy taking prisoners.
Harder yet is to convert them to your cause.
John Brown left his Red Creek Engine house bound up in chains.
Leaving five men dead.
Leaving five men dead he said.
Leaving five men dead he said, the good lord.
Leavign five men dead he said, the good lord was to blame.