He walked up the hill and he knew it was willed That the white racists, they would slay All the good men who crossed their way And what else is there left to say? “Look! The Black Prince of Peace now lays.”
And all go and pray, though they kill people everyday Their soldiers kill ‘cross the seas Their cops shoot up the cities Their managers steal our bread Their teachers, they ruin our heads.
“Be Non-Violent!” they scream, for they fear what we all will dream Now that Moses is dead Shot in the back of the head “Love them” is what he said Yet look how they treated him.
The hearts now are red as they rise up from their beds To say to the Man with hate: “We’re sorry but it’s now too late We want to control our fate The Panther will kill your snake.”
The He Walked Up The Hill eulogistic protest folk song was written during the summer of 1968, in an apartment near Amsterdam Avenue and W. 106th Street, a few months after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King in Memphis, Tennessee on April 4, 1968.