I asked a man, a time ago, what did he think of this? He said this, oh, this what? What this? and when I gestured all around he told me what life is. He said this here, this life, it is. A freedom’s dream, and old man’s kiss. This life we live, this country here, has got us tied up with notched ear. We work all day, we work all night, for a fatter man and his fat wife. We say freedom, equal true and true. Then ask me why I bow to you. A court of men, white rich not poor, make laws and things we all abhor. They are equal men, a-stood pedestals of gold, and we free men who the laws do hold. We left one king to appoint our own. And place him on a new-made throne. And yes, our land is pretty now but one day it will all be town. We hurt each other, maim and kill. And preach of peace up on the hill. We think ourselves high when stupid and low. We’ve given up knowledge for money and show. So, he said, what do you dare think of that? But I could not have spoken for his speech had me trapped.
And dreamers spoke of paradise just round the corner bend. So round the corner, round and round, all around we went. And all the time came back upon the life we had just left. So round the corner, round and round, all around we went. And never was there paradise. And never did we change. We kept on spinning round and round for all our dreaming days.
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