Accidental Racist ukulele

Accidental Racist

• G

Intro: G  D  C  G  D 


Verse:
 
G                                   D                         C             G    D 
To the man that waited on me at the Starbucks down on Main, I hope you understand 
     G                               D                       C             G 
When I put on that t-shirt, the only thing I meant to say is I'm a Skynyrd fan 
    C              Em                         D 
The red flag on my chest somehow is like the elephant in the corner of the south 
G             D                      C 
  And I just walked him right in the room 
       C                        Em 
Just a proud rebel son with an 'ol can of worms 
D                                   G                      C 
  Lookin' like I got a lot to learn,  but from my point of view 



           G                                D 
I'm just a white man comin' to you from the southland 
          C                         G      D 
Tryin' to understand what it's like not to be 
             G                           Bm 
I'm proud of where I'm from but not everything we've done 
       C                                  G     D 
And it ain't like you and me can re-write history 
         Em                      D 
Our generation didn't start this nation 
            G                                            C    
We're still pickin' up the pieces, walkin' on eggshells, fightin' over yesterday 
    G                       C    D                 G 
And caught between southern pride and the southern blame 


Verse:
 
G                                        D 
They called it Reconstruction, fixed the buildings, dried some tears 
            C                                  G             D 
We're still siftin' through the rubble after a hundred-fifty years 
         G                                     D 
I try to put myself in your shoes and that's a good place to begin 
       C                               G              D  
But it ain't like I can walk a mile in someone else's skin 



             G                       D  
'Cause I'm a white man livin' in the southland 
          C                          G D  
Just like you I'm more than what you see 
             G                           Bm 
I'm proud of where I'm from but not everything we've done 
       C                                  G     D 
And it ain't like you and me can re-write history 
        Em                       D 
Our generation didn't start this nation 
                G        
And we're still paying for mistakes 
                           C  
That a bunch of folks made long before we came 
           G                          C    D             G 
And caught somewhere between southern pride and southern blame 



(verse-rap)
 
(no chord) 
Dear Mr. White Man, I wish you understood 

What the world is really like when you're livin' in the hood 

Just because my pants are saggin' doesn't mean I'm up to no good 

You should try to get to know me, I really wish you would 
        C         G                                D  
Now my chains are gold but I'm still misunderstood 

I wasn't there when Sherman's March turned the south into firewood 
C                                 G                  
  I want you to get paid but be a slave I never could 
    D 
Feel like a new fangled Django, dodgin' invisible white hoods 
          Am 
So when I see that white cowboy hat, I'm thinkin' it's not all good 

I guess we're both guilty of judgin' the cover not the book 
    C 
I'd love to buy you a beer, conversate and clear the air 

But I see that red flag and I think you wish I wasn't here 


 
           G                                     D 
I'm just a white man,     Comin' to you from the southland 
                     (If you don't judge my do-rag) 
                                       C                         G      D 
                             Tryin' to understand what it's like not to be 
(I won't judge your red flag)                                  (yeah) 
             G 
I'm proud of where I'm from 
               (If you don't judge my gold chains) 
        Bm 
But not everything we've done 
              (I'll forget the iron chains) 
   C                                  G     D  
it ain't like you and me can re-write history 
                                              (Can't re-write history baby) 
G 
Oh, Dixieland 
              (The relationship between the Mason-Dixon needs some fixin') 
  D                                     C 
I hope you understand, what this is all about 
                       
(Quite frankly I'm a black Yankee but I've been thinkin' about this lately) 
C 
I'm a son of the new south 
                           (The past is the past, you feel me) 
           Am      G           C   
And I just want to make things right 
                                     (Let bygones be bygones) 
                 Am      G        C 
Where all that's left is southern pride 
G 
  (RIP Robert E. Lee but I've gotta thank Abraham Lincoln for freeing me, know what I mean) 

(It's real, it's real It's truth)  

x

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by Anonimous | PapastachePop

6/20/2014

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