Bits of songs and broken drums
|
Are all he could recall
|
So he spoke to me
|
In a bastard tongue
|
Carried on the silence of the guns
|
|
"It's been a long long time
|
since they first came
|
And marched through our village
|
They taught us to forget our past
|
And live the future in their image"
|
|
Chorus
|
They said
|
'You should learn to speak a little bit of English
|
Don't be scared of a suit and tie.
|
Learn to walk in the dreams of the foreigner
|
-- I am a Third World Child
|
|
The Outworld's dreams are the currency
|
That grip the city streets
|
I live them out
|
But I have my own
|
Hidden somewhere deep inside of me
|
|
In between my father's fields
|
And the citadels of the rule
|
Lies a no-man's land which I must cross
|
To find my stolen jewel.
|
|
|
They said
|
'You should learn to speak a little bit of English
|
Maybe practise birth control
|
Keep away from controversial politics
|
So to save my third world soul
|
|
Chorus
|
They said
|
'You should learn to speak a little bit of English
|
Don't be scared of a suit and tie.
|
Learn to walk in the dreams of the foreigner
|
-- I am a Third World Child
|
|
Wo! Ilanga lobunzima
|
Nalo liyashona
|
Ukuthini asazi
|
Mus' ukukhala
|
Mntanami
|
|
(Oh! We don't know when this Sun of Hardship will set.
|
Don't cry, my child.)
|
|
Bits of songs and broken drums
|
Are all he could recall
|
But the future calls his name
|
Out loud
|
Carried on the violence of the guns
|
|
-----------------
|
Third World Child
|
Johnny Clegg & Savuka |