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Four thousand
Four thousand rounds of bullets
Ready to break black bodies again
Four vultures
Four vultures mortuary vans
And whose hands, whose hands have blood?
Contradictions fill the skies
Batho pele, batho pele, they vow
Big-bellied politicians mutter ’bout
How you’ll be remembered
The street names echo your fame
Misused freedom songs your names
Your blood trickles down broken drains
Sometimes in vain
You see, the cush of your youth was blood, guns and revolutions (City with blood, guns and revolutions)
Bullets in the air now
Tear-gas in your hearts
You see, the cush of your youth was blood, guns and revolutions (City with blood, guns and revolutions)
Fists in the air now
Tear-gas in your hearts
Oh yeah mama
Yeah mama
Baleka mama
Oh baleka baba
Baleka baba
Nants’ i-mellow yellow
You died with nothing still, although museums are filled
With stories of your ill-rewarded heroic deeds
The gaze of the martyrs falls heavy on our wills
Thick in the throats of youthful self-inflicted guilt
You see, the cush of your youth was blood, guns and revolutions (City with blood, guns and revolutions)
Bullets in the air now
Tear-gas in your hearts
You see, the cush of your youth was blood, guns and revolutions (City with blood, guns and revolutions)
Fists in the air now
Tear-gas in your hearts
Oh yeah mama
Yeah mama
Baleka mama
Oh baleka baba
Baleka baba
Nants’ i-mellow yellow
You raised your calloused hands
For a share in your own land
Your blood flooded the foothill
Onto wealthy hands
The gaze of the sons and daughters falls
Heavy with bloody questions
Thick in the lies of allies bound by miners’ blood
You see, the cush of your youth was blood (City with blood, guns and revolutions)
Bullets in the air now
Tear-gas in your hearts
You see, the cush of your youth was blood, guns and revolutions (City with blood, guns and revolutions)
Fists in the air now
Tear-gas in your hearts
Oh baleka baba
Baleka baba
Nants’ i-mellow yellow
Oh baleka
Oh baleka mama
Baleka baba
Nants’ i-mellow yellow
SithI Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba (Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba (Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba (Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba (Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
Siyahamba bo siyahamba (Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
Siyahamba bo siyahamba (Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
Noba ningasidubula emqolo thina sithe siyahamba bo (Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
Combrade sihamba bo siyahamba (Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
(Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
(Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
Four thousand rounds of bullets
Ready to break black bodies again
Four vultures(Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
Four vultures mortuary vans(Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)
And whose hands, whose hands have blood?(Jikel’ emaweni siyahamba)