After Watching Black November

It's a tale of the black man's dilemma during the era of colonial masters

AFTER WATCHING BLACK NOVEMBER

Our selfish desires destroyed us
We sold our souls for the devil's use
And then became the devil's workshop
We dug our own graves

Greed took the better part of us
The cries of our people became public noise and seen as felony
We saw our loved ones as nuisances...
Just because of the crumbs from the white man's table

Youths are called leaders of tomorrow but never given the chance
Our elders betrayed us rather than represent us
They made us soil our hands with dirt...we became criminals
Our cries of agony became their songs of joy

The whites never lifted their hands to harm us
Rather we showed them the way to do it
As if that wasn't enough we hurt our own with our hands
We lent the white man our hands

They make us hungry and then feed us
They set the table, we dine
They select the players, we play the game
Then they sit back, watch n laugh at our foolishness

Our cry for help was perceived as public disturbance
Our peaceful protest perceived as a call for war
Our solidarity songs were seen as war songs
We were made into nonentities by our own people

.... But for every knife that passed through our throat we became stronger
For every tear drop we became energized
For every lost voice we became more audible
We shall not rest until our traitors come to rest.