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September '77 |
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Port Elizabeth weather fine |
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It was business as usual |
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In police room 619 |
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Oh Biko, Biko, because |
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Biko Oh Biko, |
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Biko, because |
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Biko Yihla |
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Moja, Yihla |
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Moja -The man is dead |
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When I try and sleep at night |
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I can only dream in red |
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The outside world is black and white |
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With only one colour dead |
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Oh Biko, Biko, because |
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Biko Oh Biko, |
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Biko, because |
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Biko Yihla |
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Moja, Yihla |
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Moja -The man is dead |
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You can blow out a candle |
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But you can't blow out a fire |
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Once the flames begin to catch |
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The wind will blow it higher |
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Oh Biko, Biko, because |
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Biko oh Biko, |
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Biko, because |
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Biko Yihla |
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Moja, Yihla |
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Moja -The man is dead |
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And the eyes of the world are watching now watching now |
