His old man was a rebel yeller,
Bad boy to the bone, he’d say,
Can’t trust a color’d feller
He’d judge em by the tone of their skin,

He was raised to think like his dad,
Narrow mind and full of hate,
On the road to nowhere fast,
Till the grace of God got in the way,

Then he saw the light,
and hit his knees and cried and said a prayer,
Rose up a brand new man, left the old one right there.

Montgomery Gentry