There's an old man talkin To a young boy weepin To an old man shaking his head There's a cool gentle breeze In the night full of light As the red glow wavers in the stead There's a black man crying And a white man dyin And a black man's head in the air The shock of life Feeds the fight The fight that's in my head Holding tight in the stillness of the night In the stillness of my thoughts Yet, I know I've only started
Beating on a tin drum marching to a sound What is it I think? Am I beating on a tin drum marching to a cause When I don't know what it is I believe
Lonely peeping chick Calling to his mother Runs amuck In a sunken black ditch And wilham's with the widow While martha's in the meadow And the lamb is a layin in sick And the boy in back Is talking some slack To the king of auld lang syne And my heart goes out But I cannot spout what I do not know inside Holding tight in the stillness of my mind In the stillness of my thought Yet, I know I've only started
Printer Friendly Version