| 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 |