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