From The Truman and Eisenhower Blues: African-American Blues and Gospel Songs, 1945-1960 by Guido Van Rijn (London & New York: Continuum, 2004), page 3:


THE MAN WHO COULDN'T WALK AROUND
MacKinlay Kantor

Little boy, oh sober face,
Oh, crutch that lies beside you,
Rubber wheels to ride you.

Little boy, let your fairest fancies wander,
With the great commander,
One who had to sit as still as you.

I'm dreaming of a man we knew,
Who loved us all; we loved him too.
I mean a man who couldn't walk around.

He wore a cloak of navy blue.
We made him captain of our crew,
I mean a man who couldn't walk around.

My friends, United Nations, Lend Lease, the March of Dimes,
We trusted him in trouble,
We cheered his name four times.

We served the guns he manned for us,
We'll do the things he planned for us,
That certain man, who couldn't walk around.

Little boy, look up and smile,
And grasp the chance he gave you.
Let his courage save you.

Little boy, though your world is full of sorrow,
There is still tomorrow,
Even though one sits as still as you.

I'm dreaming of a laugh we heard,
The broadest smile, the bravest words,
I mean a man who couldn't walk around.

He shook the earth, the sky and seas,
And couldn't even move his knees,
That certain man who couldn't walk around.

One afternoon in Georgia, he slept away, they say,
But people across the oceans
Still praise his name today.

He's watching from the highest hill.
His nerve is in this nation still,
That certain man who couldn't walk around.


[Recorded as a song by Josh White.]