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"Tom"
 I've read this page a thousand times
 It's the only way that I could find to carry on
 "Say. Isn't it a good life over here?
 And can you catch another can of beer?
 So sharp, so clear
 You bet! And a good kaffir I've never met
 But you know this heat will make them sweat!"
 Tin wall, hot flesh
 Oh man, I'm too full of hate to shake your hand
 And don't you ever call me your friend
 He'll take this land

Did you try to imagine the hate
 That a young boy could feel?
 Did you try to imagine the hate That a young boy could feel?

Big game; four begging children by the train
 The Afrikaner does the same
 Then gets back on again
 And who's she?
 "They call her Black Revolution Eve"
 On the master's land she sowed some seeds Today she leaves

Did you try to imagine the hate
 That a young boy could feel?
 Did you try to imagine the hate
 That a young boy could feel?
 Did you try to imagine the hate
 That a young boy could feel?
 Did you try to imagine the hate That a young boy could feel?

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