| Lynval Golding, born 1951
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| Mendes, St Catherine, Jamaica
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| The year was 1954, you know
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| Sir Winston Churchill shout across the Western islands
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| He said, «Come, help us rebuild this country devastated by war»
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| And so anyway, my father set sail upon the wind rush, bound for a new life
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| My father was a tailor by trade
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| And so this could be the possibility of all possibilities
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| But no, there was no cloth to stitch
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| Instead, you know what?
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| He found work in a steel foundry
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| Pouring hot metal day and night, day and night
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| And even worse, you know what then?
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| Him tried to find a room to rent
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| This was becoming a nightmare for him
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| Him knock on door after door after door
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| But the sign on the window keep saying the same thing
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| «No dogs, no Irish, no blacks»
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| Welcome to England
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| I’m not here to teach you
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| I’m not here to preach to you
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| I just want to reach out
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| And say
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| Time move on
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| In 1964, my father shout across Jamaica
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| «Son,» him said, «Come join me»
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| So I set sail on a ship called the Askena
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| When I reached Northampton on a cold winter’s night
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| Boy, I was freezing
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| I want to tell the captain to just take me back to Jamaica
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| But no, I was here to stay
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| So my father sent me to a school
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| Linden Road school in Gloucester
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| I remember the first playtime
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| A boy shout across at me
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| «Oi, you black bastard, come 'ere»
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| I said, «What?»
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| He said, «Come 'ere, you black bastard»
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| I still couldn’t believe, I says, «What?
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| Are you talking to me?
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| Are you talking to me?»
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| Boy, welcome to England
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| I’m not here to teach you
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| I’m not here to preach to you
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| I just want to reach out
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| And say
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| In 1994, I move again
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| The land of the free, the home of the brave
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| The United States of America
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| And there I was
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| Just walking along in the sun, minding my own business
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| Such a beautiful day, man, when I remember
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| I had to buy a watch on my sister’s birthday
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| When why eventually I found this store
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| As I walk through the door
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| This woman in the store shouted at me
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| «What you doing here, you goddamn nigga?»
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| I said, «I-I'm just, I’m just trying to buy a watch for my sister»
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| When she heard my accent, she said
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| «Oh, you’re not from here, you’re not one of them»
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| «One of them?» |
| I said, «You mean me being black?
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| Well ma’am, let me tell you something right, I am black
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| Is that all you see? |
| The color of my skin?»
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| In England, them call you a black bastard
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| In America, they call you a goddamn nigga
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| Boy, welcome to my world
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| But I’m not here to teach you
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| I’m not here to preach to you
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| I just want to reach out and say
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| Black lives matter |