Only A Pawn In Their Game - Bob Dylan
    A bullet from the back of a  bush took Medgar Ever's blood

    A finger fired the trigger to his name
    A  handle hid out in the dark a hand set the spark
    Two eyes took the aim
    Behind a  man's brain
    But he   can't be blamed
    He's only a pawn in their game
    Subsequent verses have an intro more like this:
     
    The south politician preaches to the poor white man
    "You got more than the blacks, don't complain"
    "You're better than them ,you been born with white skin", they explain
    And the negro's name
    is used it is plain
    As he rises to fame
    And the poor white remains
    on the caboose of the train
    But it ain't him to blame
    He's only a pawn in their game

    The deputy sheriff the soldiers, the governors get paid
    And the marshalls and cops get the same
    But the poor white man's used in the hands of them all like a tool
    He's taught in his school
    From the start by the rule
    That the laws are with him
    To protect his white skin
    To keep up his hate
    So he never thinks straight
    'bout the shape that he's in
    But it ain't him to blame
    He's only a pawn in their game
     
    From the poverty shacks, he loks from the cracks to the tracks
    And the hoof beats pound in his brain
    And he's taught how to walk in a pack, shoot in the back
    With his fist in a clinch
    To hang and to lynch
    To hide 'neath a hood
    To kill with no pain
    Like a dog on a chain
    He ain't got no name
    But it ain't him to blame
    He's only a pawn in their game
     
    The day Medgar Evers was buried from the bullet he caught
    They lowered him down as a king
    But when the shadowy sun sets on the one that fired the gun
    You'll see by his grave
    On the stone that remains
    Carved next to his name
    His epitaph plain:
    Only a pawn in their game
     

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    Marco Giunco
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