Word of the trouble spread around
One day, a man came through my town
I was in the kitchen when my pa let him in
Shook my hand, said: Son, the Klan's your friend
Was a meeting at Lyle Stanton's house
On the Jefferson Highway
Some they did not listen, some
Did not turn away
Said: When the holy rain of fire comes
Tumbling from above
It'll be a Klansman who stands for the land he loves
Look away, look away now
I was ten years old when my pa said: Son
Some day you will see
When you grow to wear the robes
Like your brother and me
When the war between the races lives
As in a fiery dream
It'll be a Klansman who will wipe this country clean
This, son, is my dream
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