Black or brown, red yellow white.
Our pigment we scream as their pigments we fight.
Oh Lord, what color be my soul?
How mighty we are! How great it shall be.
Won’t it be wondrous when all look like me?
Oh Lord, what color be my soul?
For those bred impure, a mosaic soup.
How then to know, which tincture our group?
Oh Lord, what color be my soul?
Our ancestors’ wars, our forebears who killed.
We wage for the wheat, for land fathers tilled.
Oh Lord, what color be my soul?
Our grudge shall not budge, our grief shan’t be brief.
No healing, no mercy, no hope for relief.
Oh Lord, what color be my soul?
Come save us, oh Lord. Come save us, God, please!
We drown in this hate and we beg on our knees.
Oh Lord, what color be my soul?
Not black, not brown, nor red yellow white.
The only hue worthy, your grace and your light.
Oh Lord, your color be my soul.
Our eyes cannot see, the souls inside we.
Pure beauty, perfection, we all reflect thee.
Oh Lord, your color be our souls.
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