The Lost and Lonely Robes

Oh Mr. Klansman, with you heavy hatred eyes
Oh Mr. Klansman, so many want to see
You turn your pointed gun and end your misery
But Mr. Klansman, I wonder why
You rebel against the world

Your ancestors had miles of land
Worked for free profit and prosperity
By those they called less than their fellow man
Broken bones and culture laid in their wake
Then it all ended, the house came falling down
Upon their own hand or fair trade they now had to survive
A mental break, a call for the past
They donned their robes, hoping for that lost memory
A time that can never be again

I can't pretend to know the burden on your back
So much knowledge and all that it lacks
You struggle on in your hermit crusade
Segregation so refined, life would become more worthless everyday
Rejecting the good for what old gilded gods once said
Leaving a fading legacy of fear and hate

Oh you Klansmen, lonely rebel crusaders
Rebelling in a long over fight
Trying to hold on to a past
That should have died long ago

Author's Note

It's almost a piece that tries to emphathise with the "lost soul" of the Klansman. They want, like a spoiled child, a return to a time when they held all the cards. I think they have issues personally. Most of their hate speach can be shot down with simple reason. They are so intrenched in their hatred it has made them deny what is really out there