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