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The jury filed in slowly, one by one,
It was time for justice to be done,
Yet all who looked on knew, deep down,
Justice couldn't breathe the air in that town.

Shadows played on the courtroom door
As the proud old lawyer took to the floor.
He looked each man straight in the eye
And as he did so felt his last hope die.

The jurymen sat there, shuffling their boots,
Uncomfortable in ill-fitting black suits,
And they looked right back, their gazes straight.
They knew their answer, but were ready to wait.

They eyed the defendant while the lawyer spoke,
Saw him standing tall in his old black coat.
They saw that he knew he couldn't win,
All thanks to the blackness of his skin.

The lawyer told his story, told it well,
Of anger and deception, heaven and hell.
He told them of a white girl, alone and sad
Who sought comfort from the only source she had.

He outlined how his client had paid the price
Of a daddy's neglectful life of vice.
The defendant hadn't hurt her or touched her.
No. She'd suffered at the hands of her father.

To all who watched as the storm clouds drew in
It was clear the black man had committed no sin,
But as the jury filed out and the room grew still
As one they all succumbed to a sudden chill.

When the jury returned, not one man proud,
They shuffled along and the silence was loud.
They gave the guilty verdict, knowing it a lie,
Condemning an innocent man to die.

The lawyer's hands were white and his face was pale.
He'd known all along he was destined to fail,
Yet the pain bit deep and he hunched his back
He'd have won for sure if his man wasn't black.

So while justice choked and prejudice thrived,
The hatred of black folk was once more revived.
The storm clouds burst open, the dark swallowed all
The light of day conquered, raindrops began to fall.
Yet down on the ground, the opposite was true:
Black was once more crushed with nothing it could do.
As the townsfolk proved on that bleak, dark day
Things were black and white, there were no shades of grey.