They don't really care about us.

While you stand there are scream, I stand here and cry. While you burn a cross in my yard, You burn a hole in my heart. I sit back and watch you destroy my hard work, the blood sweat and tears of my labor. Is it just my color, or is it truly me that has done you harm? While we try to protest, while we try to stand, You knock us down, one by one until there is nothing left. As I may stand alone, or with brothers and sisters in arms. We stand all as one, to fight to live and breathe. You stand up, to push us back down. Who are you to tell us we're wrong?