I Hate The White Man Lyrics

I Hate The White Man lyrics

Far across the ocean 

In the land of look and see 

There once was a time


For you and me 



Where the winds blow sweetly 

And the easy
seas flow still 

And where the barefoot dream of life 

Can laugh and
cry its fill 



Where slot machine confusions 

And the plastic
universe 

Are objects of amusement 

In the fiction of their curse




And where the crazy whiteman 

And his teargas happiness 

Lies
dead and long since buried 

By his own fantastic mess 



For I hate
the whiteman 

And his plastic excuse 

For I hate the whiteman 

And
the man who turned him loose... 



And the reins of coloured thunder


Of the stallion of the dawn 

Ride the coalfire morning 

On the
beach where all is born 



Where the emperor of meaning 

Is burning
up his forts 

And sits to warm his toes around 

A fire made up of
useless thoughts 



And when the children tempt him 

With the
riddles of their trance 

He flings the flames of solstice 

Casting
laughs into their dance 



And while a crazy whiteman 

In the desert
of his bones 

Lies as bleached as the paradise 

He likes to think he
owns 



And I hate the whiteman 

In his evergreen excuse 

Oh I
hate the whiteman 

And the man who turned him loose... 



And far
across the reaches 

Of the drifting yellow sands 

The living carpet
wilderness 

Forever joins its hands 



With heaven hell's attainment


In a surging crest of fire 

Where more than all is thrown upon 

The
ever lasting pyre 



And through the countless canticles 

Of Jason's
charcoal fleece 

Are sung the songs of nothing 

In the timeless
masterpiece 



And there stood in the middle 

Guess who? 

It's
the everlasting burst 

Built by god's very own whiteman 

As he tries to
rule the dust 



And I hate the whiteman 

In his doctrinaire abuse


Oh I hate the whiteman 

And the man who turned you all loose...




And the bowels of his city 

Have been locked into a safe


Where the spew stains on the sidewalks 

Are defenders of his faith




While back inside his kitchen 

The bowler hatted, long haired
saint 

Cleans with soap and water 

But it's really just white paint




While his golden headed scandal sheets 

Present their daily bite


To give their righteous news-bleeders 

Drugs to keep them white




While outside in the whitewash 

Where the guns are always, always
right 

A shooting star has summoned 

Its dark angel from his night






And I hate the whiteman 

And his evergreen excuse 

Oh I
hate the whiteman 

And the man who turned you all loose 

And the man
who turned him loose...