WWW.AZCHORDS.COM | Tim Barry - Prossers Gabriel Ukulele | Ver. 1
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Does anyone know the name Gabriel Prosser?
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My conscience says he's the one that history missed.
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A blacksmith by trade up at Brookfield Plantation,
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A Henrico County slave born of owner Thomas.
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If you listen closely you'll hear the words perfect,
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The Caribbean uprising caught fire in this land.
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Up and down the James River, Pamunky and Appomattox,
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Tobacco soil gone bad deferred a movement for the blacks.
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Nine years before, down in Santo Domingo,
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Slaves refused to submit and took the right of all men.
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Virginia whites got nervous and hired more militias,
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As blacks inspired, plotted and passed on their plans.
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Mister Prosser's Gabriel was smart as he was strong,
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A head of keloid scars and a mind of knowing right and wrong.
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Voted general at twenty-four in the year of eighteen-hundred,
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Haunted by the hymns and wailing of his fellow slaves.
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Now does anyone know the name Gabriel Prosser?
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My conscience says he's the one that history missed.
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A blacksmith by trade up at Brookfield Plantation,
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A Henrico County slave born of owner Thomas.
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It was on an August night just North of Richmond, Virginia,
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Gabriel's men gathered as their owners they slept.
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Some would burn the Capital to distract residents and masters,
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While others took the city and freed the convicts.
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Well the whites they knew nothing, never seen what could hit 'em,
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Nothing like this could happen to their carefree black men.
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But think about freedom, now think about slavery.
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Blacks armed themselves with muskets and homemade bayonets.
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With a white flag on the Capital, all blacks they would rise.
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All whites spared, would lose but an arm.
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You're a coward if you own men for profit and greed,
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You're the coward of all and for all you must bleed.
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Now does anyone know the name Gabriel Prosser?
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My conscience says he's the one that history missed.
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A blacksmith by trade up at Brookfield Plantation,
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A Henrico County slave born of owner Thomas.
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Pharaoh and Tom ratted out Gabriel Prosser,
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Their owner was Mosby, and neighbor of him.
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They say the sky seemed seized with rain and lightning,
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On the night of August thirtieth one could see nor stand.
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The militias' let loose to hunt Gabriel Prosser,
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Who took to the swamps as they imprisoned his men.
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Flagged a boat whose captain was a Methodist preacher,
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But a traitor slave turned him in in the end.
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They hung Gabriel down at Broad and 15th Street,
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Lord he would not give a word up on his men.
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But he took that noose and he took it with honor,
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He's buried beneath a lot of parked cars, now, and pavement.
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There's no monument, there's no stone here to see him,
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Just black asphalt planked by high-rise hospital chains.
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If I had it my way we'd see memorials climbin',
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To a true and honest hero, Prosser's Gabriel.
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Now does anyone know the name Gabriel Prosser?
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My conscience says he's the one that history missed.
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A blacksmith by trade up at Brookfield Plantation,
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A Henrico County slave born of owner Thomas.
