Through the eyes of a child 
There's no wrong or right 
No reason to hate 
No need for a fight 
No colour, no creed 
No malice, no greed 
Till the child becomes a man  
Give up your freedom 
Hand back your rights 
Then change your colour now 
You're black not white 
And there'll never be a piece of the action 
Now you're an African  
 
Forget beliefs and swallow your pain 
You're just a number now 
And Boy's your name 
And you'll never get a piece of the action 
Now you're a working man  
 
African, Asian, it's all the same 
Brown, black, Caucasian 
It's all the same 
Slave labour, working class 
What's in a name? 
Far left, far right, centre 
It's power they crave  
 
The politics of Apartheid 
The politics of shame 
The cold abuse of human rights 
Of torture and of pain 
Are only part of the action 
When you're an African  
 
The politics of making more 
The politics of greed 
The cold abuse of poverty 
To keep your labour cheap 
Are only part of the action 
When you're a working man  
 
African, Asian, it's all the same 
Brown, black, Caucasian 
It's all the same 
Slave labour, working class 
What's in a name? 
Far left, far right, centre 
Far left, far right, centre 
Far left, far right, centre 
It's power they crave  
 
The politics of buying arms 
When there's no food to eat 
The politics of digging gold 
Instead of planting seeds 
The leader with his private golf course 
And his flashy cars 
Sits playing with his diamond wrist watch 
While the people starve  
 
The politics of shooting down 
A plane that brings relief 
By fat men playing power games 
Who've got enough to eat 
The politics of racial hate 
The politics of war 
The men who sell the guns have fun 
While we all count the score  
 
One, two, three, four 
Thousands, millions 
People dying just to keep 
Them in the action  
 
Through the eyes of a man 
There's wrong and there's right 
A reason to hate 
There's need for a fight 
There's colour, there's creed 
There's malice, there's greed 
When the child becomes a man