False from true

When my songs turn to ashes on my tongue,
When I look in the mirror and see I’m no longer young,
Then I got to start the job of separating false from true,
And then I know, I know I need the love of you.‎

When I found tarnish on some of my brightest dreams,
When some folks I trusted turned out not quite what they seemed;
Then I got to start the job of separating false from true,
Then once more I know, I know I need the love of you.‎

No song I can sing will make Governor Wallace change his mind,
No song I can sing will take the gun from a hate-filled man;
But I promise you, and you, brothers and sisters of every skin,
I’ll sing your story while I’ve breath within.‎

We got to keep on keeping on, even when the sun goes down,
We got to live, live, live until another day comes ’round;
Meanwhile, better start over, separating false from true,
And more and more, I know I need the love of you.‎