Badlands - Folkapotamus
Father was a good man never harmed another soul
A humble life of intention in his 80 years or so
My skin's the shade of caramel His was black as night
Mother was the lucky one hers was porcelain white.

Father was a cobbler worked his fingers to the bone
Never could quite get ahead so we called the Badlands home
The white folk came from all around cause he was the best for miles
Head down always looking at their feet he should have looked into their smiles

It's a wicked wind that blows through Lincoln's prairie town
Hang that white cloth out so they'll think
You’re the kind they want around.

Mother says she felt it coming walking to town her skin would crawl
Maybe 'twas just the August heat maybe just the writing on the wall.
Some say he was brave but Mother says he was hard-headed
'Cause when they came for him he stood his ground
Strung him up in the old oak we played on as kids
On the Governor's side of town