The descendants of Negro slaves freed by the deaths of three hundred and twenty thousand young white men fighting under the banner of the United States to destroy the ugly institution of Southern slavery, descendants who are now rich beyond avarice because they are skilled at playing a game, have taken to spitting on the flag that freed their ancestors from slavery, thereby revealing the nature of the Negro slave.

The Arab slaver’s with us still
He gathers Blacks against their will
And takes them to the market square
To stand in chains for buyers there
For centuries this was the case
The fortune of the Negro race
The Middle Passage packed like spoons
Into the ships from barracoons
To work the South’s plantation fields
For cotton, sorghum, sugar yields
Until three hundred thousand men
Died to destroy the slave filled pen
They fought under the starry flag
And died from likes of Braxton Bragg
And now upon that flag you spit
You will not stand, and so you sit
Your actions show that you behave
Like what you are, a born-to slave

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