Standing in the street
He reads the anger at your face
Torture by the heat with
With picture rushing through his veins

We talk so severed daze
And countless passive ways
Must he bend his knees?
Or can't he really be free? Free? Free?

The bell rings at the school
And saw his children take their place
Teach them by the rule
That no one hates them honest face

Or just outside that room
And ask for a ghetto broom
And child is born to see
That he might never be free, free, free

Could he and I make us friends truly?
Or is the song that were really just a lie to me?
The fact that nothing's being done as a circumstance
The time is short and we may never get a chance
Uh-huh, a chance, uh-huh

Springtime in the air
And sparrows teach their young to fly
Sitting down despair
With tears of anguish in my eyes

The word of love is true
And it will surely do, if we could only see
A man just has to be free, free, free
Free, free, free
Free, free, free (Free! Free! Free! Free!)
Free, free, free (Free! Free! Free! Free!)