Tom: F major
Intro 1
D
C
D
Verse 1
D
Jack
Dillon went a -walkin'
upon a market day
From half a mile outside the town on
foot he made his way
Well, once a week he had this job at
the sale yard draftin' stock
Half the price of the standard wage
and a feed was what he got
Jack
Gm
Bb
D
Dealin', how we gonna win
Gm
Bb
When we're killin' half their darkest crime
D
C
D
of bein' zipped up in black skin
We're living on the fringes,
far below the standard line
Our heritage, they try to take it
back and bury it back in time
We're exiled in the very land of
our ancestors and gods
Pushed back across our hunting grounds
and shot down like a dog
Jack
Gm
D
Dillon, how we gonna win, boy?
Gm
Bb
When we're guilty of their darkest crime
D
C
D
Of being zipped up in black skin
Well, there's genocide upon our child
Our women were raped and beat
Well, the
Lord just slammed me in a cell
For being on the street
We're living in the riverbeds
and in the urban slums
They give us that tag of lazy cats
that won't get off their bum
Jack
Gm
Bb
D
Dillon, how we gonna win, boy
Gm
Bb
When we're guilty of their darkest crime
D
C
D
of being zipped up in black skin
Well, they'd call us jet black or hybrid
Well, it matters nothin' much
We're black, that's that,
we're third -rate
And they're treatin' us as such
They mail us welfare handouts
And they fed us on sheep guts
They satisfy their conscience
We won't bite the breast, we suck
Jack
Gm
Dillon
Bb
D
How we gonna win, boy?
Gm
Bb
When we're guilty of their darkest crime
D
Of being zipped up in black skin
Outro 1
D
C
D
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