[Music by: Callenish Circle] [Lyrics by: Jos Evers & Patrick Savelkoul] Once a mighty tribe full of pride one with nature till white man arrived They
[John Keats poem] After dark vapours have oppressed our plains For a long dreary season, comes a day Born of the gentle South, and clears away From the
who are, who are, who are we we're the Cardiff CF3
dreaming of how life can be no them and us, just you and me no rich or poor, no hate or war where everybody knows the score no justice...theres no justice
You said you were one of us We really thought you had the suss But all your talk of skinhead pride Meant nothing when the skinhead died You're sleeping
people stop and stare at you and me they don't understand what they don't see just coz we got short hair people think tha we don't care we wont show
see him walking down the street nazi jackboots on his feet dressed in black from head to toe is he sussed, no no no nazi skinhead go away and die see
we're the people that you hate the underclass that you creats the hooligans out on your street that you pray you'll never meet...its true we're the violence
look around your country and you'll see the state it's in homelessness and poverty, where did it all begin hospitals are closing and the schools are falling
you think you got it made but you don't pay the price thats paid and when the chips are down you never seem to be around you always talk it but your too
see him walking down the street doctor martens on his feet levi jeans, ben sherman shirt fuck with him and you'll get hurt he's a skinhead and he don
we ain't done anything, we get blamed we are the innocent, we get framed lies get told about us, when we're in court you know that justice is never sought
the city streets are burning theres murder in your town the boys in blue are after you and me another on goes down, buts thats alright another car goes
Tradução: Babs, Alice. Corazón lamentable por el dolor Oprimido.
Tradução: Callenish Circle. Los nativos oprimidos.
[John Keats poem] After dark vapours have oppressed our plains For a long dreary season, comes a day Born of the gentle South, and clears away From
