Only A Pawn In Their Game
- Bob Dylan
A bullet from the back of
a bush took Medgar Ever's blood
A finger fired the trigger
to his name
A handle hid out in
the dark a hand set the spark
Two eyes took the aim
Behind a man's brain
But he can't be
blamed
He's only a pawn in their
game
Subsequent verses have an
intro more like this:
The south politician preaches
to the poor white man
"You got more than the blacks,
don't complain"
"You're better than them ,you
been born with white skin", they explain
And the negro's name
is used it is plain
As he rises to fame
And the poor white remains
on the caboose of the train
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their
game
The deputy sheriff the soldiers,
the governors get paid
And the marshalls and cops
get the same
But the poor white man's used
in the hands of them all like a tool
He's taught in his school
From the start by the rule
That the laws are with him
To protect his white skin
To keep up his hate
So he never thinks straight
'bout the shape that he's
in
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their
game
From the poverty shacks, he
loks from the cracks to the tracks
And the hoof beats pound in
his brain
And he's taught how to walk
in a pack, shoot in the back
With his fist in a clinch
To hang and to lynch
To hide 'neath a hood
To kill with no pain
Like a dog on a chain
He ain't got no name
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their
game
The day Medgar Evers was buried
from the bullet he caught
They lowered him down as a
king
But when the shadowy sun sets
on the one that fired the gun
You'll see by his grave
On the stone that remains
Carved next to his name
His epitaph plain:
Only a pawn in their game