“Geen dooie vandaag, of wel?” vraag ik in het redactielokaal.
Marlena Shaw, overleden, alweer een week geleden, dus waarom ik het nu pas verneem? Ik kies als uitlui van de zangeres van Mercy, mercy, mercy deze single uit mijn collectie.
(Mmm)
I was born and raised in a ghetto
I was born and raised in a ghetto
I’m the woman of the ghetto
Listen to me legislator
(Ging, gi-gi-gi-gi-ging)
How do you raise your kids in the ghetto
How do you raise your kids in the ghetto
Feed one child and starve another
Tell me, tell me legislator
(Ging, gi-gi-gi-gi-ging)
Now how do you make your bread in the ghetto
How do you make your bread in the ghetto
Baked from the souls of the dead in the ghetto
Tell me, tell me legislator
(Ging, gi-gi-gi-gi-ging)
Brave, free
Black, me
I am the woman of the ghetto
Strong, true
My eyes ain’t blue
I am the woman of the ghetto
(Ging, gi-gi-gi-gi-ging)
How do we get rid of rats in the ghetto
How do we get rid of rats in the ghetto
Do we make one black and one white in the ghetto
Is that your answer legislator
Now how do you legislate brother
Listen to me
How do you legislate brother
When you free one man and try to chain up the other
Tell me, tell me legislator
How does your heart feel late at night
How does your heart feel late at night
Does it beat with shame
Does it beat with fright
Won’t you tell me, tell me legislator
Brave, free
Black, me
I am the woman of the ghetto
Strong, true
My eyes ain’t blue
Listen to me legislator
My children learned just the same as yours
As long as nobody tries to close the doors
They cry with pain when the knife cuts deep
They close their eyes when they wanna sleep
We must all have identity (Whoo)
That’s the only way that we can be free
Now peace you say
Is all that you ask
But self-respect is our separate task
You sitting up there
In your ivory tower
60 stories tall
Now you may have seen one ghetto
But have you lived there at all
Places like Watts (tell me)
Detroit (tell me)
Filmore (tell me)
Chicago (tell me)
Harlem (tell me)
Washington (tell me)
Sing our voices (tell me)
Sing our voices (tell me)
Sing our voices of the ghetto
Sing our voices of the ghetto
Sing our voices, sing our voices
‘Cause I am the woman of the ghetto
See the women cry
See the children die
(Ging, gi-gi-gi-gi-ging)
(Whoo)
Woman of the ghetto, 1969
Zij ruste in vrede
– Uitgelichte afbeelding: By AMG, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30468084
