They, the male masters
and we, serving the meal
avoiding talk, avoiding disaster
and the betrayal that we feel.
We, the silent women folk
aren't allowed to say
our love has gone up in lusty smoke
while faithful marriage they portray.
And all the husbands beat the wives
who don't keep their secrets private
to look you'd never guess the strife
of living with Southern gentleman tyrants.
While they indulge their wicked ways
she can't vote or own the land
They'd hang a wife who didn't obey
like the Indians who took a stand.
They have the guns; they have the power
if you were born a male
But there's nothing awaiting the foreigner
but graveyard flowers or settin' in jail.
Being a man was hard as hell,
but being a woman was twice as bad.
Being a slave meant being for sale,
even if you were just a lad.
This is the world they'd "make great" again
the golden age of "men first."
If you're not white you cannot attend,
and if you're a woman, you're cursed.
Don't return to yesteryear
filled with sin and sorrow.
The future cannot make you fear
and the past is trouble borrowed.
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