Barclay James Harvest Poor Men Moody Blues Lyrics
            Through the eyes of a child
            There's no wrong or right
            No reason to hate
            No need for a fight
            No colour, no creed
            No malice, no greed
            Till the child becomes a man
            Give up your freedom
            Hand back your rights
            Then change your colour now
            You're black not white
            And there'll never be a piece of the action
            Now you're an African
        
            Forget beliefs and swallow your pain
            You're just a number now
            And Boy's your name
            And you'll never get a piece of the action
            Now you're a working man
        
            African, Asian, it's all the same
            Brown, black, Caucasian
            It's all the same
            Slave labour, working class
            What's in a name?
            Far left, far right, centre
            It's power they crave
        
            The politics of Apartheid
            The politics of shame
            The cold abuse of human rights
            Of torture and of pain
            Are only part of the action
            When you're an African
        
            The politics of making more
            The politics of greed
            The cold abuse of poverty
            To keep your labour cheap
            Are only part of the action
            When you're a working man
        
            African, Asian, it's all the same
            Brown, black, Caucasian
            It's all the same
            Slave labour, working class
            What's in a name?
            Far left, far right, centre
            Far left, far right, centre
            Far left, far right, centre
            It's power they crave
        
            The politics of buying arms
            When there's no food to eat
            The politics of digging gold
            Instead of planting seeds
            The leader with his private golf course
            And his flashy cars
            Sits playing with his diamond wrist watch
            While the people starve
        
            The politics of shooting down
            A plane that brings relief
            By fat men playing power games
            Who've got enough to eat
            The politics of racial hate
            The politics of war
            The men who sell the guns have fun
            While we all count the score
        
            One, two, three, four
            Thousands, millions
            People dying just to keep
            Them in the action
        
            Through the eyes of a man
            There's wrong and there's right
            A reason to hate
            There's need for a fight
            There's colour, there's creed
            There's malice, there's greed
            When the child becomes a man
        
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