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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