C ome round by my side & I'll sing you a s ong
I'll si ng it so softly it'll d o no one wro ng
On B irmingham Sunday the bl ood ran like wine
And the cho irs kept singing of fr eedom
T hat cold autumn morning no eyes saw the su n
And Ad die Mae Collins her nu mber was "on e"
At an ol d baptist ch urch there was no need to run
And the cho irs kept singing of fr eedom
T he clouds they were grey and the autumn winds b lew
And De nise McNair brought the nu mber to "t wo"
The falco n of death wa s the creat ure they knew
And the cho irs kept singing of fre edom
T he church it was crowded but no one coul d see
That Cy nthia Wesley's dark num ber was "thr ee"
Her pray ers and her feel ing would sh ame you and me
And the cho irs kept singing of fre edom
Y oung Carol Robertson entered the do or
And the n umber her killers had g iven was "fo ur"
She as ked for a bles sing but ask ed for no more
And the cho irs kept singing of fre edom
O n Birmingham Sunday a noise shook the gro und
And the peo ple all over ea rth turned aro und
F or no on rec alled a mo re cowardly sound
And the cho irs kept singing of free dom
T he men in the forest they once asked o f me
How ma ny blackberries gro w in the blue se a
A nd i asked them ri ght back wi th a tear in my eye
How many dark ships in the for est?
T he Sunday has come and the Sunday has go ne
And I can 't do much more tha n to sing you a s ong
I 'll sing it so softly it'll do no one wrong
And the cho irs kept singing of free dom
