Woman is the nigger of the world Yes, she is, think about it Woman is the nigger of the world Think about it, do something about it
We make her paint her face and dance If she won't be a slave, we say that she don't love us If she's real, we say she's trying to be a man While putting her down we pretend that she's above us
Woman is the nigger of the world Yes, she is If you don't believe me Take a look at the one you're with Woman is the slave of the slaves Ah yeah, better scream about it
We make her bear and raise our children And then we leave her flat for being a fat old mother hen We tell her home is the only place she should be Then we complain that she's too unworldly to be our friend
Woman is the nigger of the world Yes, she is If you don't believe me Take a look at the one you're with Woman is the slave to the slaves Yeah, alright
We insult her every day on TV And wonder why she has no guts or confidence When she's young we kill her will to be free While telling her not to be so smart we put her down for being so dumb
Woman is the nigger of the world Yes, she is If you don't believe me, take a look at the one you're with Woman is the slave to the slaves Yes, she is If you believe me, you better scream about it
We're born in a prison Raised in a prison Sent to a prison called school
We cry in a prison We love in a prison We dream in a prison like fools
Wood becomes a flute when it's loved Reach for yourself and your battered mates Mirror becomes a razor when it's broken Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate
We live with no reason Kicked around for no reason Thrown out without reason like tools
We work in a prison And hate in a prison And die in a prison as a rule
Wood becomes a flute when it's loved Reach for yourself and your battered mates Mirror becomes a razor when it's broken Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate
We live in a prison Among judges and wardens And wait for no reason for you We laugh in a prison Go through all four seasons And die with no vision of truth
Wood becomes a flute when it's loved Reach for yourself and your battered mates Mirror becomes a razor when it's broken Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate
Standing on the corner Just me and Yoko Ono We was waiting for Jerry to land Up come a man with a guitar in his hand Singing, "Have a marijuana if you can" His name was David Peel And we found that he was real He sang, "The Pope smokes dope every day" Up come a policeman shoved us up the street Singing, "Power to the people today!"
New York City...New York City...New York City Que pasa, New York? Que pasa, New York?
Well down to Max's Kansas City Got down the nitty gritty With the Elephants Memory Band Laid something down As the news spread around About the Plastic Ono Elephants Memory Band! And we played some funky boogie And laid some tutti frutti Singing, "Long Tall Sally's a man." Up come a preacherman trying to be a teacher Singing, "God's a red herring in drag!"
New York City...New York City...New York City Que pasa, New York? Que pasa, New York?
New York City...New York City...New York City Que pasa, New York? Que pasa, New York?
Well we did the Staten Island Ferry Making movies for the telly Played the Fillmore and Apollo for freedom Tried to shake our image Just a cycling through the Village But found that we had left it back in London Well nobody came to bug us Hustle us or shove us So we decided to make it our home If the Man wants to shove us out We gonna jump and shout The Statue of Liberty said, "Come!"
New York City...New York City...New York City Que pasa, New York? Que pasa, New York?
New York City...back in New York City...New York City Que pasa, New York? Que pasa, New York?
Well it was Sunday bloody Sunday When they shot the people there The cries of thirteen martyrs Filled the Free Derry air Is there any one amongst you Dare to blame it on the kids? Not a soldier boy was bleeding When they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday bloody Sunday Bloody Sunday's the day!
You claim to be majority Well you know that it's a lie You're really a minority On this sweet emerald isle When Stormont bans our marches They've got a lot to learn Internment is no answer It's those mothers' turn to burn!
Sunday bloody Sunday Bloody Sunday's the day!
Sunday bloody Sunday Bloody Sunday's the day!
You anglo pigs and scotties Sent to colonize the North You wave your bloody Union Jack And you know what it's worth! How dare you hold to ransom A people proud and free Keep Ireland for the Irish Put the English back to sea!
Sunday bloody Sunday Bloody Sunday's the day!
Well, it's always bloody Sunday In the concentration camps Keep Falls Road free forever From the bloody English hands Repatriate to Britain All of you who call it home Leave Ireland to the Irish Not for London or for Rome!
It ain't fair, John Sinclair In the stir for breathing air Won't you care for John Sinclair? In the stir for breathing air Let him be, set him free Let him be like you and me
They gave him ten for two What else can the judges do? Gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta set him free
If he'd been a soldier man Shooting gooks in Vietnam If he was the CIA Selling dope and making hay He'd be free, they'd let him be Breathing air, like you and me
They gave him ten for two What else can the judges do? Gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta set him free
They gave him ten for two They got Ali Otis too. Gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta set him free
Was he jailed for what he done? Or representing everyone Free John now, if we can From the clutches of the man Let him be, lift the lid Bring him to his wife and kids
They gave him ten for two What else can the bastards do? Gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta set him free
-"Hey, listen! I don't know whether you can tell what the Words are to this song but there's only two of them And I'd like to have you sing along 'cause it's real easy. Anybody who comes to the fillmore east can sing this song. The name of the song is 'scumbag'. Ok? And all you gotta do is sing 'scumbag'. Right on, brothers and sister let's hear it for the 'scumbag'!"
