I saw you in the cotton fields
Blue skies above
The wind blowing through the sheaves
Your back bowed, I saw you standing — black and proud
I saw the liquid pearls drip from your brow.
Your voice is seldom heard,
From the young to the old, I heard it in your songs.
You sweated in the hot baking sun
Your freedom was written in the twilight
I see you working in the shopping malls.
I see your masters are still the same; one can guess that nothing has changed.
The setting has altered, but they still define the rules of the game.
The chains might not be as visible, but one can hazard that they are just the same.
Your freedom still resides in their hands.
I see the hunger in the child’s eyes
I see their thirst for the Brands;
their salvation must surely be at hand.
Their identity and pride are embedded in these iconic totems.
