| And here I stand, redskin fist of power
|
| Clawing at the stains of racism
|
| It turns to black, cos you’re so very credible
|
| But you keep losing track
|
| 'cos You don’t, my colour in your melting pot of love
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| Where everybody is brown
|
| So here I stand, knee deep in your soiled heritage
|
| That’s so charmingly underground
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here we stand, I’m looking at my sad, sad eyes
|
| They slowly turn at rage
|
| Oh what a shame, I can’t contain my basic nigga-rage
|
| And lust for violence
|
| So here we are, the cry goes out for war
|
| London’s east end burning to the ground
|
| So here we stand, blackened fist of power
|
| Same old scarred-up-faces we condemn
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| So here I stand, stand s-t-a-n-d
|
| My nigga-rage, nigga-rage
|
| Nigga-rage, nigga-rage
|
| Nigga-rage, rage
|
| Nigga-rage, rage
|
| Rage, rage, rage |