White Folks Songtext / Lyric

Propaganda, some pistol fire, a dirty deed
A zealous gang, a skinhead's pride, reason to bleed
No use hanging around, no use hanging around.
Strike of a fist, the master race, a foul disease
Crack of a whip, a police state, search and seize,
Then burn to the ground, then brun to the ground.

Call it youth misunderstood, or hwite folks
Up to no good,
In cold blood you know they would
Right here in the neighborhood.

Wearing thorns like a crown,
Wearing thorns like a crown.

Call it youth misunderstood,
Or white folks up to no good
In cold blood you know they would
Right here in the neighborhood.

Now you and I, as lovers go, nothing to grieve
We watch our backs, we load our guns, on Christmas Eve...

(Peter Kingsbery)
© Edwin Ellis Warner Chappell Music France