Lyrics

"What if I told you That I'm on this train Because my two grown sons were frightened— Me driving through the night On a stretch of farm-stand highway In Mississippi— 'Cause they don't need a hood or a cross or a tree What if I told you That I'm headed to a funeral in Tupelo On the hundred acre farm Purchased by my great-grandfather Who learned to read 'Cause his master's daughter Taught him secretly And not knowing What kind of schooling His own children would receive He taught them never to sign Their names on anything— 'Cause they don't need a hood or a cross or a tree And would he have believed That his great-granddaughter— All the way to the Ivy League? And would he have believed The millions of dollars— And yet still unsafe On that stretch of farm-stand highway? What if I told you That my eldest son Loves a white girl Whom I adore But who lives in a part of town where A black man might be mistaken for— 'Cause they don't need a hood or a cross or a tree No, they don't need a hood or a cross or a tree And if I told you all of that Maybe you would understand Why I have limited sympathy For your desire to know the suffering Of the working white man." Monica explained In the dining car As we hurtled South In the growing dark