The Sound of Democracy Falling

What was that sound? Who was that man in the funeral shroud? Who walked behind the man at the head of the crowd? Amandla! The man’s fist was raised Whilst the world showered him with praise But he has passed now and he is gone And the silence of his grave Speaks to no-one. His shadow no longer lines the ground And no trace of his legacy can be found… A long road to freedom, a long road indeed At the end of the road, only malice and greed. Does no-one see, and no-one understand That the freedom that was sought By the blood of the distraught Has come to this, to naught! As only anarchy was bought… What was that sound? Liberation bells? As the father shouts and the infant yells? What was that sound? Was it a widow, crying for loss? As her husband’s blood Was traded for dross? What was that sound?