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?
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