Slaveship
words and music by Stephen Barling

Draw the anchor up, Mr. Sloan
we'll turn this boat around and sail it home
the cargo's left the bay
and now they're picking corn
4000 miles from the land where they were born

Ripples fading blue to all horizon
sun beating down in haze of crimson
and i am crying despite the rum
it fails to hide from me
the pain I'd hoped that it might numb

In all is power
in all the words
in all is power
in other words
to choose to blind oneself
or better to be heard
in all is power
in all the words

I'm tired and useless
and my throat is dry
seen my reflection
but there's no soul in my eyes
and I must never come this way again
the bartering of these souls
will be left to colder men

In all is power
in all the words
in all is power
in other words
to choose to blind oneself
or better to be heard
in all is power
in all the words

And it's far too easy
to lock yourself inside
in this blind man's teardrops
our fears confide

So many words to say, so little time
false thoughts issue in stress and perpetrate the crime
and I wake from bad dreams
where hate-filled eyes stare back at me
dragged down as they succomb to this misery

in all is power
in all the words
in all is power
in other words
to choose to blind oneself
or better to be heard
in all is power
in all the words

© 1989 GNILSONGS

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