Sam Cooke

By Benjamin Adair Murphy

He stepped in the water
He helped the fishes swim
When he left those fish were singing
So of course they killed him

The wrong kind of voice
The wrong kind of skin
His car was way too pretty
So of course they killed him

So of course they killed him
So of course they killed him

He was calm and patient
The stranger’s twin
He put his hands upon the sick
So of course they killed him

They didn’t know where to start
Or where to begin
They were scared and they were panicked
So of course they killed him

So of course they killed him
So of course they killed him

Well, some don’t get it
Some understand 
And some stand with the soldiers
Who cut off Victor Jara’s hands

So you can blame the timing 
You can blame the luck
But I swear a man can’t speak the truth 
Without his throat getting cut

So of course they killed him
So of course they killed him
So of course they killed him
So of course…

They killed him


Benjamin Adair Murphy writes blues and country songs. His last album, ‘Let’s Make a King,’ was named one of the best albums of 2020 by multiple publications. His poetry and lyrics have been published in Fevers of the Mind, Headline Poetry and Press, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Rabid Oak, Coven Poetry, and others. His plays have been performed in New York, Boston, and Chicago. He lives in Mexico City.

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