To preach of peace and brotherhood
Oh, what might be the cost!
And they hung him on a cross
Those things don’t happen nowadays
The chains of slaves they dragged the ground
With heads and hearts hung low
But it was during Lincoln’s time
Those things like that don’t happen
No more, nowadays, do they
The war guns they bombed and blazed
The whole world bled its blood
Men’s bodies rotted on the ground
As their graves were made in mud
Those kind of things don’t happen
One man had not enough to eat
One man he lived just like a king
The other man begged on the street
Things like that don’t happen
One man died of a knife so sharp
One man died from the bullet of a gun
One man died of a broken heart
To see the lynching’ of his son
Things like that don’t happen
Gladiators killed themselves
It was during the Roman times
People cheered with bloodshot grins
As eyes and minds went blind
Things like that don't happen
And the talk of peace and brotherhood
Oh, what might be the cost
Man he did it long ago, and hung him on a cross
Things like that don't happen
No more, nowadays, do they
Composição: Bob Dylan
