I don't know if
you want it or not, I don't understand this
You know about my heart,
tell me about your heart
Our mind is made of sand
You don't have the right to win
But you recognize us
You are a guest of our heart
You don't have the right to win But you recognize us
It's You
who makes the homesteadkind
Negroes
Your will is such
that it is not accepted
Our pain is processed
a
a
a
dig a little big
dig a little deep