"This is a song about Steven Biko, who was beaten to death in a
prison in South Africa in 1977. We are reminded of the fact that
for every Nelson Mandela who walks free amongst us, there are
probably hundreds more of Steven Bikos, who are not so fortunate."
September, seventy-seven, Port Elizabeth, weather fine.
It was business as usual in police room six one nine.
Oh, Biko, Biko, because, Biko.
Oh, Biko, Biko, because, Biko.
When I try to sleep at night, I can only dream in red.
The outside world is black and white, and only one color dead.
Oh, Biko, Biko, because, Biko.
Oh, Biko, Biko, because, Biko.
Kilamanja, Kilamanja, the man is dead, the man is dead.
Kilamanja, Kilamanja, the man is dead, the man is dead.
The man is dead, the man is dead.
Here comes Steven Biko, walking down the water
Hey, hey, what'cha gonna do with Biko, Biko, Biko?
Waters of fear and hatred, waters of starving babies
Hey, hey, what'cha gonna do with Biko, Biko, Biko?
Come all the way from Capetown to Wilmington, North Carolina
Hey, hey, what'cha gonna do with Biko, Biko, Steven Biko?
You can break one human body, but I see ten thousand Bikos
Hey, hey, what'cha gonna do with Biko, Biko, Biko?
You can blow out a candle, but you can't blow out a fire
'Cause once the flames begin to catch,
The wind will blow it hi-i-i-igher
Oh, Biko, Biko, because, Biko.
Oh, Biko, Biko, because, Biko.
Oh, Biko, Biko, because, Biko.
Oh, Biko, Biko, because, Biko.
Now here comes Steven Biko, he's walking down the water
Hey, hey, what'cha gonna do with Biko, Biko, Biko?
The eyes of the world are watching, watching, watching
What'cha gonna do with Biko, Biko, Biko, Biko, Biko, Biko, Biko
