I guess we're a movement of songwriters! Or prison makes one write songs (see the history of country music). While inside, Darrell Yoder was humming a tune. When Malinda asked him what it was, he wrote out the lyrics--but not until after he was released. There are no pencils in Lancaster prison.
twenty-three decided to say
“We'll put our wrists in your handcuffs
to imagine a different way.”
And can you only imagine
if it had been a thousand and three?
Where would they find enough handcuffs?
And would our water flow free?
No... we didn't stop the digging.
Yes... the fence was still built.
But can you only imagine
our land as a beautiful quilt?
Where children are free to grow freely
Where the wind blows pure and sweet
Where ground water is precious
Not just something down in the deep.
What will we leave our children?
And their children's children's child
Will we leave them an Earth that still gives birth
to clean air, pure water, and life?
And can you only imagine
if it had been a thousand and three?
Where would they find enough handcuffs?
And would our water flow free?
It is not so hard to imagine
since I stood for my children three
and their children's children down through the years.
I stood for one thousand three.
So bring your one thousand and three, my friend,
in whatever form they may be.
And we'll put our wrists in their handcuffs
until the waters run free.
And we'll put our wrists in their handcuffs
until the waters run free.