He was my brother
 Five years older than I
 He was my brother
 Twenty-three years old the day he died
 Freedom writer
 They cursed my brther to his face
 Go home ousider
 This town‘s gonna be your buryin‘ place
 He was singin‘ on his knees
 An angry mob trailed along
 They shot my brother dead
 Beause he hated what was wrong
 He was my brother
 Tears can‘t bring him back to me
 He was my brother
 And he died so his brothers could be free
 He died so his brothers could be free.