You may write me down in history...

...with your bitter, twisted lies.

You may trod me in the very dirt...

...but still, like dust, I rise.

Just like moons and like suns,...

...with the certainty of tides,...

...just like hopes springing high,...

...still I rise.

Did you want to see me broken,...

...bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops,...

...weaned by my soulful cries.

Out of the huts of history's shame, I rise.

Up from a past that's rooted in pain, I rise.

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,...

...welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear, I rise.