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16 October 2014

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on air now: Sean Coyle

What Goes Around Comes Around

by John McMenamin

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They hung me on a Sunday night
I swung to and fro in the bright moonlight
Above the ground I kicked and flung
But I was black-So I was well hung.

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The hempen rope did creak and groan
I bit my tongue and began to moan
My hands were bound behind my back
The crowd was white and I was black.

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The blood was pounding in my brain
Thump, thump, thump, like an express train
My eyes were bursting from their sockets
Loose change jingled in my pockets.

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I could smell the scent of the popular tree
The branch did groan-but it still held me
They left me there to swing and sway
Down in Mississippi – In the USA.

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But that was in the bad old days
And the Ku Klux Klan have changed their ways
Now we’re together, white and black
And we kill the brown man—in Iraq.

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Yes, things have changed in the USA
No more on trees will the black man sway
But the hates still there and it’s plain to see
In the land of the brave and the home of the free.

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Children mangled in the mud
Precision bombs and the red, red blodd
Collateral damage-friendly fire
George Bush is good-Saddam’s a liar.

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Across the desert huge tanks roll
Super power—out of control
Fundamentalist Christians-always right
Yet they still see things in-black and white.

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First the red man, then the black
Now the brown man-in Iraq
The stars and stripes, red, white and blue
Who’s be next—Well it could be you.

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They have the power and they’re willing
Gods on their side, when they go killing
Now wars a game, it’s on TV
People watch it at their tea.

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A video game enjoyed by all
The screen lights up as the brown men fall
It puts big brother in it’s place
As we massacre the Iraqi race.

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So tune in every night to see
The reality game on your TV
It’s sanitised behind the screen
So you come away with your hands still clean.

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Yes, they hung me on a Sunday night
I swung to and fro in the bright moonlight
I died beneath the popular tree
Yet, in a way, there were-afraid of-me

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