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Paul Heaton feat. Jacqui Abbott
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The Lord Is a White Con
When the white man went to Africa With a briefcase in his hand Pristine Bible held in other Whilst the black man held the land Now the black man holds the Bible And turns to see his land has gone And you realise the Lord The Lord is a white con
Who carved up the continent Like in operating room Friar Barroso, Reverend Helm And Livingstone, I presume
Fire and brimstone in their soul And buckshot in their belt The good book or the bullet That's the hand the white man dealt In East Africa they called you 'boy' In the West just plain 'garçon' And you realise the Lord The Lord is a white con
When the Scotsman went to Caribbean With his lectern on the boat He stepped ashore and took the young men Tightly by the throat Any man who sleeps with man To Hades they'll be gone And you realise the Lord The Lord is a white con
And as they taught them every single verse To old Amazing Grace Bedding Bounty Killer and Buju Banton Perfectly in place
Fire and brimstone in their soul And buckshot in their belt The good book or the bullet That's the hand the white man dealt In East Africa they called you 'boy' In the West just plain 'garçon' And you realise the Lord The Lord is a white con
When the white folk started singing They only did in solemn prayer Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Not til 'Pops' and Mavis Did the spirit take them there Now the gospel singer she plays the clubs And the soul man cleans the john And you realise the Lord The Lord is a white con
Blind Boy Fuller, Howling Wolf And all the blues men gone All we've got to show for it Is Joss Stone at No.1
Fire and brimstone in their soul And buckshot in their belt The good book or the bullet That's the hand the white man dealt In East Africa they called you 'boy' In the West just plain 'garçon' And you realise the Lord The Lord is a white con
When the white man started singing He put finger straight in ear He wouldn't play a song or style That might risk his career Previously a slave would trade His freedom for the chance To get off boat and for the white man Do a song or dance Now the whole world's screaming R'n'B But it's whiter than a swan And finally you realise The Lord's a blue-eyed con Old Jim Crow, the Minstrel Show The whole of history You think you'll make it up to them With a touch of Harper Lee
Fire and brimstone in their soul And buckshot in their belt The good book or the bullet That's the hand the white man dealt In East Africa they called you 'boy' In the West just plain 'garçon' And you realise the Lord The Lord is a white con
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