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"Tom" |
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I've read this page a thousand times |
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It's the only way that I could find to carry on |
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"Say. Isn't it a good life over here? |
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And can you catch another can of beer? |
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So sharp, so clear |
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You bet! And a good kaffir I've never met |
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But you know this heat will make them sweat!" |
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Tin wall, hot flesh |
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Oh man, I'm too full of hate to shake your hand |
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And don't you ever call me your friend |
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He'll take this land |
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Did you try to imagine the hate |
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That a young boy could feel? |
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Did you try to imagine the hate |
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That a young boy could feel? |
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Big game; four begging children by the train |
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The Afrikaner does the same |
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Then gets back on again |
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And who's she? |
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"They call he Black Revolution Eve" |
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On the master's land she sowed some seeds |
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Today she leaves |
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Did you try to imagine the hate |
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That a young boy could feel? |
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Did you try to imagine the hate |
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That a young boy could feel? |
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Did you try to imagine the hate |
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That a young boy could feel? |
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Did you try to imagine the hate |
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That a young boy could feel? |
