The Sound of the Home Drums
Never forgets your roots,
The roots of your hair,
Was it blond, brunette, of black,
It was a mixture of red, blue or
the colour of a peacock tail,
The roots of your ancestors,
Who came over on the slave ship,
Call "Disaster Man Drip"'
capture by the white man,
Migrated like animal,
Force to harvest his land.
He change they name,
Its over five hundred years,ago,
Its still a crying shame,
You are not to blame,
Drifting out to sea,
while home drums, echo out,
bum, bum, bum, tum
in the still of the night,
The sound of weeping mothers
As they fall to the ground,
So, long, so long,
Where is our sons and daughters
Our only sons...
They came from Kings and Queens,
they black skin shine brighter than
golden beams,
They carefree life,
wasn't free anymore,
They were locked down below,
on the cold damp cabin floor,
Many days of hunger, feeling cold
As tears flow,
Oh! how they long for the sound,
Of home drums, home drums,
The vessel sail both day and night
heading to Guernsey Bay
On that dark cloudy day,
They spirit was weaken,
and they was beaten,
Terrific with fright,
During the still of the night,
Heading to a life of uncertainty
Into to years of Slavery,
Home drums, home drums,
Freedom will be many of years
To come.
Lovely and dark
cool as a guiness
on a hot summer day
caramel center heart of gold
Homeland is calling me
am I really free,
Are we really free,
Homeland awaits me
Your Queen Annie/Amee