Lingua   

The Sharpsville Massacre

John Steele
Lingua: Inglese



As I walked out in the hot streets of Sharpsville,
Through the hot streets I did walk one day,
I spied a young Negro, digging and filling,
Digging and filling a grave he did say.

I asked him the reason he appeared so troubled,
I asked him why his eyes were so dim,
His words were whispered as he tried to tell me
The grave he was digging his child would lie in.

So beat the drums slowly
And play the fife lowly,
Play the dead march for the murdered and gone,
A man wants his freedom,
He'll die for his freedom,
Shot in the back for dOing no wrong.

They make us use passes, we're slaves to white classes, The Africaner protects us they say,
We toil in his fields and sweat in his factories,
He shoots us down when we get in the way.

So beat the drums slowly
And play the fife lowly,
Play the dead march for the murdered and gone,
A man wants his freedom,
He'll die for his freedom,
Shot in the back for doing no wrong.

The wisa men gathered together in London,
Three thousand miles from the blood and the moans,
But a stand was not taken to save their brothers,
The massacre at Sharpsville has passed una toned.

So beat the drums slowly
And play the fife lowly,
Play the dead march for the murdered and gone,
A man wants his freedom,
He'll die for his freedom,
Shot in the back for doing no wrong.

The jails are all crowded, the bodies are shrouded,
husbands and wives have been taken away
a nation is rising and brave men are dying
The massacre at Sharpsville will bring a new day.

So beat the drums slowly
And play the fife lowly,
Play the dead march for the murdered and gone,
A man wants his freedom,
He'll die for his freedom,
Shot in the back for doing no wrong.


Pagina principale CCG

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