Black August

Black August

Comrade Jonathan Jackson
Our communist Black son
Your name be still ringing
Your praises we still singing
Took courage in hand
And ran wild
Across the history
Took on the capitalist system
Dared to resist them
With righteous rage
And the vision
Of a guerrilla tactician
A weapon forged
By his brother George
Had a revolutionary plan
And assault rifle in hand
On that fateful day
Took judge jury and D.A.
All the way
With demands to free
Three Black men
On a staged trial
This Black man child
17 years old
Defying what we been told
About futile resistance
In the tradition of
The rebel slave
Demanding freedom
For his people
Or the grave
He put it all on the line
It was terrible but fine
Gave his life in a hail of bullets
To counter the bullshit
Of plenty people talking
But few people walking
That “by any means necessary”
Road to freedom
But know
We gone meet him
In the world wind
Where the ancestors been
Shining down
On us since way back when
So we never forget
Know we never regret
The example he set
His name still be ringing
His praises we still be singing
Our communist Black son
Jonathan Jackson


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