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 lacked? I'd 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's ten generations just gasping for air From the cold I know ♪ 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 Why 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?