He grabbed his gun and told his son
With a stiff and rough voice
'Stop playing with toys, you're not a boy'
The little man rose, having no choice
‘Here is your gun, keep vigil like the sun
Let’s protect our land
The whites ruined us and we must fight thus
Lest we lose where to stand’
The white man came and took our name
Our habits and land
He gave us guns, let us fight as he earns
And we kill each for a place to stand
No comments:
Post a Comment