Really messed-up, without prayer

Or hope of redeeming lost ground

On verge of obtaining my share

Fool to risk good English pounds

 

Island life is isolated

Communities are locked in bubbles

Visitors so appreciated

As ammunition toward struggles

 

Everyone know each other’s business

Must make it your goal to find out

Sometimes you have to take great risk

Since news travels through word, and mouth

 

I am a child of the sixties

England built schools – allowed us to read

Grandmother worked in the cane fields

My mum used to trade the workers feed

 

Yes!  I am a child of slavery

Was born on Molyneux project

Still proud of my ancestry

Survived, and will never forget

 

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