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'll rise. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise.
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