Word
|
You
|
may
|
write
|
me
|
down
|
in
|
history
|
With
|
your
|
bitter,
|
twisted
|
lies,
|
You
|
may
|
tread
|
me
|
in
|
the
|
very
|
dirt
|
But
|
still,
|
like
|
dust,
|
I'll
|
rise.
|
Does
|
my
|
sassiness
|
upset
|
you?
|
Why
|
are
|
you
|
beset
|
with
|
gloom?
|
'Cause
|
I
|
walk
|
like
|
I've
|
got
|
oil
|
wells
|
Pumping
|
in
|
my
|
living
|
room.
|
Just
|
like
|
moons
|
and
|
like
|
suns,
|
With
|
the
|
certainty
|
of
|
tides,
|
|
Word
|
Just
|
like
|
hopes
|
springing
|
high,
|
Still
|
I'll
|
rise.
|
Did
|
you
|
want
|
to
|
see
|
me
|
broken?
|
Bowed
|
head
|
and
|
lowered
|
eyes?
|
Shoulders
|
falling
|
down
|
like
|
teardrops.
|
Weakened
|
by
|
my
|
soulful
|
cries.
|
Does
|
my
|
haughtiness
|
offend
|
you?
|
Don't
|
you
|
take
|
it
|
awful
|
hard
|
'Cause
|
I
|
laugh
|
like
|
I've
|
got
|
gold
|
mines
|
Diggin'
|
in
|
my
|
own
|
back
|
yard.
|
You
|
may
|
shoot
|
me
|
with
|
|
Word
|
your
|
words,
|
You
|
may
|
cut
|
me
|
with
|
your
|
eyes,
|
You
|
may
|
kill
|
me
|
with
|
your
|
hatefulness,
|
But
|
still,
|
like
|
air,
|
I'll
|
rise.
|
Does
|
my
|
sexiness
|
upset
|
you?
|
Does
|
it
|
come
|
as
|
a
|
surprise
|
That
|
I
|
dance
|
like
|
I've
|
got
|
diamonds
|
At
|
the
|
meeting
|
of
|
my
|
thighs?
|
Out
|
of
|
the
|
huts
|
of
|
history's
|
shame
|
I
|
rise
|
Up
|
from
|
a
|
past
|
that's
|
|
Word
|
rooted
|
in
|
pain
|
I
|
rise
|
I'm
|
a
|
black
|
ocean,
|
leaping
|
and
|
wide,
|
Welling
|
and
|
swelling
|
I
|
bear
|
in
|
the
|
tide.
|
Leaving
|
behind
|
nights
|
of
|
terror
|
and
|
fear
|
I
|
rise
|
Into
|
a
|
daybreak
|
that's
|
wondrously
|
clear
|
I
|
rise
|
Bringing
|
the
|
gifts
|
that
|
my
|
ancestors
|
gave,
|
I
|
am
|
the
|
dream
|
and
|
the
|
hope
|
of
|
the
|
slave.
|
I
|
rise
|
I
|
rise
|
I
|
rise.
|
|