Birmingham Sunday

Come round by my side & I'll sing you a song I'll sing it so softly it'll do no one wrong On Birmingham Sunday the blood ran like wine And the choirs kept singing of freedom That cold autumn morning no eyes saw the sun And Addie Mae Collins her number was "one" At an old baptist church there was no need to run And the choirs kept singing of freedom The clouds they were grey and the autumn winds blew And Denise McNair brought the number to "two" The falcon of death was the creature they knew And the choirs kept singing of freedom The church it was crowded but no one could see That Cynthia Wesley's dark number was "three" Her prayers and her feeling would shame you and me And the choirs kept singing of freedom Young Carol Robertson entered the door And the number her killers had given was "four" She asked for a blessing but asked for no more And the choirs kept singing of freedom On Birmingham Sunday a noise shook the ground And the people all over earth turned around For no on recalled a more cowardly sound And the choirs kept singing of freedom The men in the forest they once asked of me How many blackberries grow in the blue sea And i asked them right back with a tear in my eye How many dark ships in the forest? The Sunday has come and the Sunday has gone And I can't do much more than to sing you a song I'll sing it so softly it'll do no one wrong And the choirs kept singing of freedom