I'm just a Negro soldier
Fighting for "Democracy,"
A thing I've often heard of
But very seldom see.
In the South I was just a "nigger"
On whom the boss man kept close track
To see that I grew no bigger
Than the clothes upon my back.
In the North, of course, it's different,
That is, they had a different name
For Jim-Crow it was segregation
But it amounts to just the same.
Yet I must be patriotic
Must not grumble or complain
But must fight for some "four freedoms"
On which I'll have no claim.
I must fight under every condition
Face bayonet, shot and shell
But with Jim-Crow "recognition"
Tho' I crash the gates of hell.
They expect me to be loyal ?
But in my heart I'm not
For how can a second-class citizen
Be a first-class patriot?
To hell with a war impelled by greed
While the hungry masses cry
But to win complete equality
I'd fight and gladly die.