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