In november 1971 kwam Bob Dylan zowaar met een losse geëngageerde single, George Jackson, over de twee maanden eerder doodgeschoten, in de nor geradicaliseerde zwarte gevangene met die naam. De moord vond plaats op 21 augustus 1971, sindsdien “viert” men in de VS Black August ter nagedachtenis. Dit is uiteraard geen officieel goedgekeurde jankverjaardag zoals MLK-dag of al die andere onzin.
Morgen meer over hoe de Zwarte Augustus nagalmt, 44 jaar later. Nu de versie van J.P. Robinson van het nummer van Bob Dylan, 1972.
I woke up this mornin’,
There were tears in my bed.
They killed a man I really loved
Shot him through the head.
Lord, Lord,
They cut George Jackson down.
Lord, Lord,
They laid him in the ground.
Sent him off to prison
For a seventy-dollar robbery.
Closed the door behind him
And they threw away the key.
Lord, Lord, They cut George Jackson down.
Lord, Lord,
They laid him in the ground.
He wouldn’t take shit from no one
He wouldn’t bow down or kneel.
Authorities, they hated him
Because he was just too real.
Lord, Lord,
They cut George Jackson down.
Lord, Lord,
They laid him in the ground.
Prison guards, they cursed him
As they watched him from above
But they were frightened of his power
They were scared of his love.
Lord, Lord,
So they cut George Jackson down.
Lord, Lord,
They laid him in the ground.
Sometimes I think this whole world
Is one big prison yard.
Some of us are prisoners
The rest of us are guards.
Lord, Lord,
They cut George Jackson down.
Lord, Lord,
They laid him in the ground.
(Een bekendere cover is een zeurderig uitgerekte koffieshopversie van Steel Pulse. Liever niet. En Dylan zelf wordt altijd vliegensvlug van YT gehaald met een ijver een goede zaak waardig).
