I Picked A Flower From The Grave

I picked a flower from the grave

Of my great-grandmother's pain

She whispers quietly to me

Teaching me to fight for thee

Tied to horses, dragged through fields

Still, our souls would never yield

Caged in carnivals of death

Punished with the white man's wrath

Your daughter cut the supplejack

For the whip upon her back

Bled for speaking her own tongue

Still, the white man never won

Listen now, I will not cease

To resist and strive for peace

They can take me by my hair

I will not falter, I will not fear

Great-grandmother, hear my cry

Wipe these tears from my eyes

I will sing till my last breath

I will not let them forget

I will not let them forget