Racist song 3

Stupidity teaches you to hate people you don’t know and to take credit for accomplishments you had no part in whatsoever.

After the Yankees suspended the use of Kate Smith’s recording of “God Bless America” during the seventh-inning stretch over allegations of racism, the late singer’s family are speaking out. “She loved everybody,” said Suzie Andron, Smith’s niece. “Aunt Katheryn was probably one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. She was certainly anything but a prejudice person, she loved everybody.”

After all, if they look deep, way deep, Kate Smith may have looked at a negro somewhere or had a black friend.

In light of the news story about Kate Smith, I would like to present more songs that represent the greatness of America. Shockingly, they all came from the same group of morons claiming to be the superior race. More than hatred, I see stupidity in the lyrics; the same ignorance that made slavery and lynching possible. The same ignorance we see today.

Enough said; judge for yourself.
Every race has a flag but the coon, by Will A. Heelan

The leader of the Blackville Club arose last Labor night
And said, “When we were on parade today
I really felt so much ashamed, I wished I could turn white
‘Cause all the white folks march’d with banners gay

Just at de stand de German band
They waved their flag and played ‘De Wacht am Rhine’
The Scotch Brigade each man arrayed
In new plaid dresses marched to ‘Auld Lang Syne’
Even Spaniards and Sweeds, folks of all kinds and creeds
Had their banner except de coon alone
Ev’ry nation can brag ‘bout some kind of a flag
Why can’t we get an emblem of our own?”

For Ireland has her Harp and Shamrock
England floats her Lion bold
Even China waves a Dragon
Germany an Eagle gold
Bonny Scotland loves a Thistle
Turkey has her Crescent Moon
And what won’t Yankees do for their Red, White and Blue
Every race has a flag but the coon

He says, “Now I’ll suggest a flag that ought to win a prize
Just take a flannel shirt and paint it red
They draw a chicken on it with two poker dice for eyes
An’ have it wavin’ razors ‘round its head
To make it quaint, you’ve got to paint
A possum with a pork chop in his teeth
To give it tone, a big hambone
You sketch upon a banjo underneath
And be sure not to skip just a policy slip
Have it marked four eleven forty four
Then them Irish and Dutch, they can’t guy us so much
We should have had this emblem long before”

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