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A Piece Of Ground
Miriam Makeba
When the white man first
Came here from over the sea
He looked and he said this
Is God's own country
He was mighty well pleased
With this land that he'd found
And he said I will make
Here my own piece of ground...
Now the land was inhabited
So I've heard say
By little men who painted
On the rock face by day
They stuck to their land
So he hunted them down
And left them to rot on
Their own piece of ground...
Many's the battle
He still had to fight
Many's the family that
Died In the night
For many were the black
Men that lived all around
And all of them wanting
Their own piece of ground...
So northwards he trekked
And northwards he rode
Over veld and tough countryside
Onwards he strode
In the Free State and the
Transvaal his oxen outspanned
And he planted the seed in
His own piece of land...
Then one fine day in 1883
Gold was discovered in good quantity
The country was rich,
Much richer than planned
And each digger wanted
His own piece of land...
Now the diggers were few
And the gold was so deep
That the black man was called
'Cos his labour was cheap
With drill and with shovel
He toiled underground
Fourpence a day for
Ten tons of ground...
Now this land is so rich and
It seems strange to me
That the black man whose
Labour has helped it to be
Cannot enjoy the fruits that abound
Is uprooted and kicked from
His own piece of ground...
Some people say now don't you worry
We've kept you a nice piece
Of reserve territory
But how can a life for
So many be found
On a miserable thirteen
Per cent of the ground?
Some people say now don't you worry
You can always find jobs
In the white man's city
But don't stay too long and
Don't stay too deep
Or you're bound to disturb
The white man in his sleep...
White man don't sleep long and
Don't sleep too deep
Or your life and your possessions
How long will you keep?
For I've heard a rumour
That's running around
That the black man's demanding
His own piece of ground...
compositores: Jeremy Taylor
Came here from over the sea
He looked and he said this
Is God's own country
He was mighty well pleased
With this land that he'd found
And he said I will make
Here my own piece of ground...
Now the land was inhabited
So I've heard say
By little men who painted
On the rock face by day
They stuck to their land
So he hunted them down
And left them to rot on
Their own piece of ground...
Many's the battle
He still had to fight
Many's the family that
Died In the night
For many were the black
Men that lived all around
And all of them wanting
Their own piece of ground...
So northwards he trekked
And northwards he rode
Over veld and tough countryside
Onwards he strode
In the Free State and the
Transvaal his oxen outspanned
And he planted the seed in
His own piece of land...
Then one fine day in 1883
Gold was discovered in good quantity
The country was rich,
Much richer than planned
And each digger wanted
His own piece of land...
Now the diggers were few
And the gold was so deep
That the black man was called
'Cos his labour was cheap
With drill and with shovel
He toiled underground
Fourpence a day for
Ten tons of ground...
Now this land is so rich and
It seems strange to me
That the black man whose
Labour has helped it to be
Cannot enjoy the fruits that abound
Is uprooted and kicked from
His own piece of ground...
Some people say now don't you worry
We've kept you a nice piece
Of reserve territory
But how can a life for
So many be found
On a miserable thirteen
Per cent of the ground?
Some people say now don't you worry
You can always find jobs
In the white man's city
But don't stay too long and
Don't stay too deep
Or you're bound to disturb
The white man in his sleep...
White man don't sleep long and
Don't sleep too deep
Or your life and your possessions
How long will you keep?
For I've heard a rumour
That's running around
That the black man's demanding
His own piece of ground...
compositores: Jeremy Taylor
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