To the man that waited on me
at the Starbucks
down on Main
I hope you understand
When I put on that t-shirt
the only thing I meant to say
is I'm a Skynyrd fan
The red flag
on my chest somehow
is like the elephant
in the corner of the south
And I just walked him
right in the room
Just a proud rebel son
with an 'ol can of worms
lookin' like I got a lot to learn
But from my point of view
I'm just a white man
Coming to you from
the southland
Trying to understand
what it's like not to be
I'm proud of where I'm from
but not everythin' we've done
and it ain't like you
and me can re-write history
Our generation didn't
start this nation
We're still pickin'
up the pieces
walkin' on eggshells
fightin' over yesterday
And caught
between southern pride
and southern blame
They called it Reconstruction
Fixed the buildings
Dried some tears
We're still sifting
through the rubble
after a hundred-fifty years
I try to put myself
in your shoes
and that's a good
place to begin
But it ain't like I can walk a mile
in someone else's skin
'Cause I'm a white man
livin' in the southland
Just like you I'm more
than what you see
I'm proud of where I'm from
but not everythin' we've done
and it ain't like you and me
can re-write history
Our generation didn't
start this nation
And we're still
payin' for mistakes
that a bunch of folks made
long before we came
And caught somewhere
between southern pride
and southern blame
Dear Mr. White Man
I wish you understood
what the world is really like
when you're livin' in the hood
Just because my
pants are saggin'
doesn't mean I'm up
to no good
You should try
to get to know me
I really wish you would
Now my chains are gold
but I'm still misunderstood
I wasn't there when
Sherman's March
turned the south
into firewood
I want you to get paid
but be a slave I never could
Feel like a new fangled Django
dodgin' invisible white hoods
So when I see
that white cowboy hat
I'm thinkin' it's not all good
I guess we're both
guilty of judgin'
the cover not the book
I'd love to buy you a beer
conversate and clear the air
But I see that red flag
and I think you wish
I wasn't here
Woah I'm just a white man
If you don't judge my do-rag
Comin' to you
from the southland
I won't judge your red flag
Trying to understand
what it's like not to be
I'm proud of where I'm from
If you don't
judgemy gold chains
But not everything we've done
I'll forget the iron chains
It ain't like you and me
can re-write history
Can't re-write history baby
Oh Dixieland
The relationship between
the Mason-Dixon
needs some fixin'
I hope you understand
What this is all about
Quite frankly
I'm a black Yankee
But I've been thinkin'
about this lately
I'm a son of the new south
The past is the past
you feel me
And I just want
to make things right
Let bygones be bygones
All that's left
is southern pride
RlP Robert E. Lee
but I've gotta thank
Abraham Lincoln
for freein' me
Know what I mean
It's real
It's real
It's truth