There's a burning cross on a hillside. Still bright after all these years. And you want to just smile and ignore it, but I hear your fucking fear. I don't believe that anything's changed, at least not for the better. I don't believe that anything's changed, and nothing's getting better. Dead words from a different time still can boil blood, still have the power to crucify on a fence in America. And the words you say are still smoldering. And those crosses are still burning.