El Blues Del Esclavo

Being black is a color
Being a slave, I can't stand it
I'm fried from working so much from sunup to sundown
The lands of the damn master

Comrades think the same
Or there's a Spartacus who goes all out
And this changes or everyone to Gambia
From Kunta Kinte to our days, few improvements

Let's see if now with the Civil War
Our cotton union is accepted
Which, who knows, wants to obtain
Sunday rest, a normal salary
Two paychecks, a month of vacation
And a pension after retirement

That we are treated with dignity
Like fellow immigrants
That the beatings of the boss and the right of the first night end

And whoever prefers can go back to Senegal
Running naked through the jungle
With the woman and the kid, go natural
Raising neck and forehead like a sister ostrich
So they don't say we're Zulus
Singing this blues

And whoever prefers can go back, can go back

And whoever prefers can go back to Senegal
Running naked through the jungle
With the woman and the kid, go natural
Raising neck and forehead like a sister ostrich
So they don't say we're Zulus
We've made this blues