Texty & Preklad: crosby stills nash young - word game Pod týmto nájdete text s prekladom hneď vedľa! Na našej stránke nájdete mnoho textov s prekladmi crosby stills nash young! Pozrite si náš archív a ostatné texty, napríklad kliknite na písmeno crosby stills nash young c a uvidíte aké piene od crosby stills nash young máme v našom archíve a viac podobných ako word game.
Would you knock a man down if you don't like the cut of his clothes Could you put a man away if you don't want to hear what he knows Well it's happening right here people dying of fear by the droves And I know most of you Either don't believe it's true, Or else you don't know what to do Or maybe I'm singing about you, Who knows. It's incredibly sick, you can feel it, as across the land it flows Prejudice is slick when it's a word game, it festers and grows, Move along quick, it furthers one to have somewhere to go You can feel it as it's rumblin' Let emotions keep a tumblin' Then as cities start to crumblin' Mostly empty bellies grumblin' Here we go People see somebody different fear is the first reaction shown Then they think they've got him licked the barbaric hunt begins and they move in slow A human spirit is devoured the remains left to carrion crow I was told that life is change And yet history remains, Does it always stay the same Do we shrug it off and say Only God knows By and by, somebody usually goes down to the ghetto Try and help but they don't know why folks treat them cold And the rich keep getting richer and the rest of us just keep getting old. You see one must have a mission In order to be a good Christian If you don't you will be missing High Mass or the evening show And the well fed masters reap the harvests of the polluted seeds they've sown, Smug and self-righteous they bitch about people they owe, And you can't prove them wrong, they're so God damn sure they know I have seen these things with my very own eyes and defended my battered soul, It must be too tough to die, American propaganda, South African lies Will not force me to take up arms, that's my enemies' pride, Ands I won't fight by his rules that's foolishness besides, His ignorance is gonna do him in and nobody's gonna cry, Because his children they are growing up and plainly tired of putting up With bigots and their silver cups They're fed up, they might throw up On you