of Birmingham” And white gloves on her small brown hands, “Ballad By Dudley Randall (On the bombing of a church in Birmingham, Alabama, 1963) And white shoes on her feet. The mother smiled to know her child dear, may I go downtown “Mother Was in the sacred place, Instead of out to play, But that smile was the last smile And march the streets of Birmingham To come upon her face. In a Freedom March today?” For when she heard the explosion, baby, no, you may not go, “No, Her eyes grew wet and wild. For the dogs are fierce and wild, She raced through the streets of Birmingham And clubs and hoses, guns and jails Calling for her child. Aren’t good for a little child.” She clawed through bits of and brick, mother, I won’t be alone. “But, Then lifted out a shoe. Other children will go with me, here’s the shoe my baby wore, “O, And march the streets of Birmingham But, baby, where are you?”Ballad of Birmingham To make our country free.” (On the bombing of a church in Birmingham, baby, no, you may not go, “No, Alabama, 1963) For I fear guns will fire. dear, may I go downtown But you may go to church instead “Mother Instead of out to play, And sing in the children’s choir.” And march the streets of Birmingham In a Freedom March today?” She has combed and brushed her night-dark hair, baby, no, you may not go, “No, For the dogs are fierce and wild, And bathed rose petal sweet, And clubs and hoses, guns and jails
“Ballad of Birmingham” By Dudley Randall (On the bombing of a church in Birmingham, Alabama, 1963) “Mother dear, may I go downtown Instead of out to play, And march the streets of Birmingham In a Freedom March today?” “No, baby, no, you may not go, For the dogs are fierce and wild, And clubs and hoses, guns and jails Aren’t good for a little child.” “But, mother, I won’t be alone. Other children will go with me, And march the streets of Birmingham To make our country free.” “No, baby, no, you may not go, For I fear guns will fire. But you may go to church instead And sing in the children’s choir.” She has combed and brushed her night-dark hair, And bathed rose petal sweet, And white gloves on her small brown hands, And white shoes on her feet. The mother smiled to know her child Was in the sacred place, But that smile was the last smile To come upon her face. For when she heard the explosion, Her eyes grew wet and wild. She raced through the streets of Birmingham Calling for her child. She clawed through bits of and brick, Then lifted out a shoe. “O, here’s the shoe my baby wore, But, baby, where are you?”Ballad of Birmingham (On the bombing of a church in Birmingham, Alabama, 1963) “Mother dear, may I go downtown Instead of out to play, And march the streets of Birmingham In a Freedom March today?” “No, baby, no, you may not go, For the dogs are fierce and wild, And clubs and hoses, guns and jails
MODERN%20BALLAD%20LYRICS.docx