I was just a boy
When the question popped in my head
Prejudice was the word that I had just read
It's what a man from the south is!
The history book said
But my father was from the south
And a prejudice word I never heard said
So I asked him why prejudice
Didn't work in his stead?
He had fought in three wars
Seen men cry, die, and beg
With a look in his eyes of pain and dread
He stared right past me and slowly he said
Son never forget
"All Men Bleed Red!"
