| Once upon the blood of many
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| We were cast as less than any
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| To so much a point some still believe
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| Smaller scene, a world much bigger
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| Where it’s okay to play with the word «nigga»
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| Yet would we knowing all the grief and death it breeds
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| But that was some years ago
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| When we had more hope than money
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| A time and a world ago
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| When our hearts were made of steel
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| Back then it was all about
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| Stamping all the hatred out
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| So that now there would be no doubt
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| Who wouldn’t have to heal
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| But why if so long ago
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| We’re seen safe only when funny
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| As if there’s no need to show
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| Deep inside what we really feel
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| Yet those things when brought to view
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| Seem to bother but a few
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| No if we don’t come for real
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| Our wounds won’t heal
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| Black silhouettes used as target practice
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| There’s Darkie Toothpaste borne out of this malice
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| These stereotypical images come to mind
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| Figurines, mascots, postcards of us hanging
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| Most recent here, of one of us dragging
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| The propaganda machine must tell the truth
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| This time stop lying
|
| But that was some years ago
|
| When we had more hope than money
|
| A time and a world ago
|
| When our hearts were made of steel
|
| Back then it was all about
|
| Stamping all the hatred out
|
| So that now there would be no doubt
|
| Who wouldn’t have to heal
|
| But why if so long ago
|
| We’re seen safe only when funny
|
| As if there’s no need to show
|
| Deep inside what we really feel
|
| Yet those things when brought to view
|
| Seem to bother but a few
|
| No if we don’t come for real
|
| Our wounds won’t heal
|
| But that was some years ago
|
| When we had more hope than money
|
| A time and a world ago
|
| When our hearts were made of steel
|
| Back then it was all about
|
| Stamping all the hatred out
|
| So that now there would be no doubt
|
| Who wouldn’t have to heal
|
| Oh, what if so long ago
|
| We’re seen safe only when funny
|
| As if there’s no need to show
|
| Deep inside what we really feel
|
| Yet those things when brought to view
|
| Seem to bother but a few
|
| No if we don’t come for real
|
| Our wounds won’t heal
|
| No if we don’t come for real
|
| Our wounds won’t heal |