Cherokee highway de Western Flyer

Jesus loves the little children,
all the children of the world,
red and yellow, black and white,
they are precious in his sight,
jesus loves the little children of the world.
Mississippi, in sixty-one, they watched his daddy die,
guided by the light of a burning cross, that lit the delta sky.
kevin and willy, ten years old, they were best of friends,
the only way you could tell 'em apart was the color of their skin.
"come on willy," kevin screamed, "let's get out of here"
willy's numb, can't even run, frozen there with fear,
so kevin takes off through the woods,
yelling "ill be back for you"
running fast out of breath, can't stop and rest,
his daddy would know what to do
rushing through the door,
he sees the eyes of a man,
his daddy's washing the blood out of a sheet,
but it won't come off his hands

and the blood still runs down cherokee highway,
a senseless river filled with all they shared,
just two dark sides to cherokee highway,
but black or white, the blood still runs red.
Now the fire, is at the fuse, in a town that just won't learn.
the word is out, make the white man pay, gonna watch his farmhouse burn.
midnight, the flames begin, kevins daddy's the first to rise.
so he grabs his gun, and he grabs his wife,
but kevin's still inside
from the shadows comes,
a boy with darker skin,
though they killed his daddy he's gonna save his friend,
and he runs through the door, as the house falls in.
Chorus
Standing in the ashes,
he sees what hate really is,
two little bodies both burnt black, can't tell which child is his
Chorus
down cherokee highway.
it still runs red.
down cherokee highway.