Toussaint was a mighty man

And to make matters worse he was black

Black and back in the days when black men knew

Their place was in the back

But this rebel he still walked through Napoleon

Who thought it wasn’t very nice

And so today, my brothers in Haiti,

They still pay the price

Haiti I’m sorry

We misunderstood you

But one day we’ll turn our heads

And look inside you

Haiti I’m sorry

Haiti I’m sorry

But one day we’ll turn our heads

Restore your glory

Many hands reached out to St. Georges

And are still reaching out

And to those frightened foolish men of Pretoria

We still scream and shout

We came together in song

To steady the Horn of Africa

But the Papa Loa come

The baby Loa go

And still, we don’t seem to care.

When there’s anguish in Port-Au-Prince

It’s still Africa crying

We’re outing  fires in faraway places

When our neighbours are just burning

They say the Middle Passage is gone

So how come overcrowded boats still haunt our lives

I refuse to believe that we good people would  forever turn

Our hearts and eyes away

Lyrics by David Rudder.  (c) Lypsoland, 1988

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sungoddess

mermaid, dayo's mama, water priestess, writer, web developer, omo yemoja, dos aguas, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, trini-bajan, combermerian, second life, music, music, music!