The sound of screaming in the distance sends a cold chill up my spine,
as I wait, silently, for the sound of a midnight hymn.
For the song itself is the key to my refuge.
So I wait, and I wait, for the midnight rhyme.

"O' Lord, my God, watch over us tonight.
As I wade in the water,
send a shining seraphim,
that I may see the underground light.

Let us lodge with the oppressed,
and break bread together.
Lest you steal away our freedom
for an even greater treasure.

Give us joy, in the midst of tribulation.
Give us strength when we have it not.
Never will I look back, like the wife of Lot,
Lord hear the Prayer of the Colored Nation."