| i am a angry young man i’m on de run
|
| yesterday i thief mi fada gun
|
| i’m a angry young man
|
| i’m on de run
|
| a shot a police wid mi fada gun
|
| ask me why
|
| a tell u no lie
|
| a pray years hopin dat dis police would die
|
| as a child a can neva feget
|
| dat face so ugly and sweat
|
| yet a knew de day would com
|
| wen a would have to kill im an run
|
| now mi family will neva si mi again
|
| through these years i have felt much pain
|
| a nite mare all these years
|
| so much pain so much tears
|
| now it happen a long time aguh
|
| right down there in de ghetto
|
| mi mada was sittin aroun de shop counta
|
| wen a man com in an start to beat har
|
| mi fada was away dat day
|
| neva knoo who to run to or wat to say
|
| a stan up deh a neva meck a soun
|
| de man push mi mada to de groun
|
| a could’nt se a ting agen
|
| but a knoo mi mada was feelin pain
|
| wen im lef a hear har cry
|
| a hear har seh «LARD LET ME DIE»
|
| time and time a would hear mi fada seh
|
| dat mi sista was not his. |
| .. and a kne right aweh
|
| dat de day would have to com
|
| wen a would be a young man on de run
|
| now a sit behind dis wall
|
| dis wall suh tall
|
| still hearin mi mada cry
|
| still hearin har seh «LARD LET ME DIE» |