My daddy told me about the old glory days. But I made up my mind about Daddy's ways. We followed King to Atlanta and got the slaves all free. And the ladies come out from behind the fans of gentry. America. America. How you've broken free. America. America. Was your destiny. I was at Daddy's bedside the night that he went. He whispered real sad "the south won't rise again". They've all gone to Chicago to lose the slow accent. Leaving me behind wondering where we went. America. America. Are you losing your mind. America. America.