In the state of Mississippi, many years ago, a boy of fourteen years got a taste of southern
law.
He saw his friend a-hangin', his color was his crime, the blood upon his jacket put a
brand upon his mind.
Too many martyrs and too many deaths, too many lies, too many empty words were said.
Too many times for too many angry men, oh, let it never be again.
Then the boy became a man, the man became a cause, the cause became the hope for the
country and its laws.
They tried to burn his home and they beat him to the ground, but deep inside they both
knew what it took to bring him down.
Too many martyrs and too many deaths, too many lies, too many empty words were said.
Too many times for too many angry men, oh, let it never be again.
The killer waited by his home, hidden by the night, as Evers stepped out from his car
into the rifle sight.
He slowly squeezed the trigger, the bullet left his side, it struck the heart of every
man when Evers fell and died.
Too many martyrs and too many deaths, too many lies, too many empty words were said.
Too many times for too many angry men, oh, let it never be again.
They laid him in his grave while the bugle sounded clear, they laid him in his grave
while the victory was near.
While we waited for the future, for freedom through the land, the country gained a killer
and the country lost a man.
Too many martyrs and too many deaths, too many lies, too many empty words were said.
Too many times for too many angry men, oh, let it never be again.
Oh, let it never be again.