Let’s here it for the non-racist liberal.
Who doesn’t see colour, cos everyone is equal.
Let’s thank them for their love for all
And compassion that they expect gratitude for.
Stop. Let me burst their bubble.
Saying they don’t see colour denies the root of trouble.
The harm is not only in the feelings that they hide,
But also in what they don’t know of their inside.
White only labels others.
Forgetting it’s just another colour.
An unwritten rule of self-superiority reigns
In side the minds of western brains.
So much goes on within these heads,
Fronted with blind eyes that can’t see the dead
Lining streets paved with the gold,
Minerals and people that they stole.
To learn to speak the truth for themselves
They have to understand that just as meat on shelves
In plastic packaging was killed for them in abbatoirs,
So the profits in their pockets came from lands afar.
But there is no comprehension of this.
As British liberal newspapers dis
France for crimes against Haiti,
It’s like they’re forgetting what made Britain mighty.
Do I have to point on a map of countries?
Not of carved up nation state legacies
From the scramble for a continent.
I’m meaning like Ashante and Yoruba before Christian settlement.
Before they were forced to meet Carib and Arawak
On islands cultivated in blood from lashed backs.
Registers held in Christian parishes
That in Britain dealt with births, deaths and marriages,
But here in a hell in the name of the Almighty,
Languages and names changed to roll more lightly
Off European tongues.
Stand among
The market in towns like St. George
And cast minds back to auction blocks before.
West African forts hold the evidence required
To smack the face of English history denied.
Power gained through conquering,
Turns to peace through assimilation.
Nurnberg hauled German crimes in front of nations,
And until we seriously discuss reparation
Leopard Britain can never change its spots.
They don’t want truth, they want it forgot.
Liberals who claim equality and colour blindness
Are forgetting that their privileges aren’t blessed
But cursed with the souls of many.
Count Britains wealth, every blooded penny.
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