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 brother to his face
   Go home outsider
   This town`s gonna be your buryin` place
  
   He was singin` on his knees
   An angry mob trailed along
   The yshot my brother dead
   Because 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