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Move It
par
Harry Belafonte
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The storm clouds have gathered The young lions prowl Prowl outside your precious metal wall The children of your sheep Have begun to growl And your diamond barricade is soon to fall We see our babies starving at the edges of your feast But still you're holding fast to all your lies A new rage is rising that your torture cannot kill And now the time has passed for compromise You killed the truth at Sharpville You crushed the voice of peace Now everyday a bitter anger grows The young gangs prepare for war their fear burned in the flame You Lilly white will be a blood red rose The liberation funerals, the terror in the streets The wounds that you refused to let us heal The madness of your method Has brought a white hot heat Your fire of hate is forging hearts of steel Homeless in our homelands Aliens in our own lands Hungry men with gold dust on our shoes Our patience and our sanity Has now turn into rage The rage of souls with nothing left to lose Move it Move it Move it
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