Dear Old Black Joe

Dear Old Black Joe,

Did you know the root to your demise is money?

It's bondage have left you tied to lies that reveal an on-going truth:
running from slavery will always be your relay.

I know the white man may seem like the problem
and sometimes they were.
But when we look past him and see the desire for power
we also see the love of money.

"King Cotton!
King Cotton!
King Cotton!"

Here the ringing of
our slave bell Old Black Joe.

Though the song is different, the bell still resonates at full capacity.

And now, even to this day, we are
proud of our chains.
Not because the white man said we should be but
because we see money in these chains.

Money in chains,
Chains in money.

Money in chains,
Chains in money.

Money in chains,
Chains in money.

Money in chains,
Chains in money.

Money in chains,
Chains in money.

I suppose we have something
in common with our colonial brethren.

You see Old Black Joe,
that's the melody of our slave bell.
Now I see that it sounds like yours
but only slightly different.

I know I'm fooling myself by saying it's different
because we own the chains, but I don't think I can handle
the scariest reality: That I am choosing to be a slave...

A century has gone and still
time has managed to change into nothing at all.