And every day and night here in Chicago
I know past any argument
That I'm the man you'll never kill
Because I am the son of the blues
I'm Billy Branch, I'm Karl, I'm Mose
Hear now, here now
Here we come
Here we say
He was such a good man
Why did he have to die
In Vietnam, in Angola, in Namibia
Or anyplace anytime in the talons
of inhumanity
Here now South Africa
The Botha regime is a funny thing
Because Serote, my brother
Who has beheld flowers
Serote, who knows
No Baby Must Weep
Has already told us
It is a tough tale