Not a Movie

Well, they rocked him with road-apples
because he tried to vote
and whipped his head with clubs
and he crawled on his knees to his house
and he got the midnight train
and he crossed that Dixie line
now he’s livin’
on a 133rd.

He didn’t stop in Washington
and he didn’t stop in Baltimore
neither in Newark on the way.
Six knots was on his head
but, thank God, he wasn’t dead!
And there ain’t no Ku Klux
on a 133rd.