Sons & Daughters
The Neville Brothers

Young man on his way home from the market
Just enjoying the beautiful afternoon
It gets kinda dark, sun just set
There's these other young men
Standing on the corner
Nothing to do
Just hanging around

The're passin' out the weapons to each other
Brass knuckles, pipes, chains, half a bricks
Broken bottles, switch blades

Young man lands in jail
For some crime he did not commit
352 years hard labor in Angola Prison
352 years and hard labor
Sleepless nights between sugar cane and cotton
That's where he lies the ropes
And pays with his soul
For some crime he did not commit

We think we're save at home
With our bomber stickers
Saying: just say no
We give up a few freedoms here and there
In the name of a squeaky clean America

Now they have got us hypnotized and hysterical
Now they have got us hypnotized and hysterical
Screaming for blood and justice
Now they have got us hypnotized and hysterical
Screaming for blood and justice

They show us the faces of hatred
Over and over, a new one every week
Could be Manuel Noriega
Could be Ayattollah
Any old scapegoat'll do

The young men will be our sacrificial lamb
Pro choice no choice
We are sending our sons and daughters
To this slaughter
Pro choice no choice

Slogans mean nothing to a young man
Facing 352 years hard labor in Angola
For a crime he did not commit
It's freedom of speech
As long as you don't say to much

You can't stop running waters
You can't kill the fire that burns inside
Don't deny our flesh and blood
Don't forsake our sons and daughters

It's freedom of speech
As long as you don't say to much
I think we're all running
Thinking that we can't hide
I think we're running
Trying to get away

But sooner or later we gonna realize
We gonna meet up with the truth
Face to face


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