Through the eyes of a child There's no wrong or right No reason to hate No need for a fight No colour, no creed No malice, no greed Till the child becomes a man
Give up your freedom Hand back your rights Then change your colour now You're black not white And there'll never be a piece of the action Now you're an African
Forget beliefs and swallow your pain You're just a number now And Boy's your name And you'll never get a piece of the action Now you're a working man
African, Asian, it's all the same Brown, black, Caucasian It's all the same Slave labour, working class What's in a name?
Far left, far right, centre It's power they crave
The politics of Apartheid The politics of shame The cold abuse of human rights Of torture and of pain Are only part of the action When you're an African
The politics of making more The politics of greed The cold abuse of poverty To keep your labour cheap Are only part of the action When you're a working man
African, Asian, it's all the same Brown, black, Caucasian It's all the same Slave labour, working class What's in a name?
Far left, far right, centre Far left, far right, centre Far left, far right, centre It's power they crave
The politics of buying arms When there's no food to eat The politics of digging gold Instead of planting seeds The leader with his private golf course And his flashy cars Sits playing with his diamond wrist watch While the people starve
The politics of shooting down A plane that brings relief By fat men playing power games Who've got enough to eat
The politics of racial hate The politics of war The men who sell the guns have fun While we all count the score
One, two, three, four Thousands, millions People dying just to keep Them in the action
Through the eyes of a man There's wrong and there's right A reason to hate There's need for a fight There's colour, there's creed There's malice, there's greed When the child becomes a man