Black is white and white is black
Oh lord, why cant we turn back
The hands of time, between the line
There lies my sorrow and pain
Hope you hear

Far across the sea, there is a land
Where presidents polluting the air
So that the people wont understand
and never care
But only two eyes make pair and see
Hope you face reality

There is a land, called America
Looking down from above on the sufferer
With hand made strong, but weak to help
Reloading  gun to round up wealth
And so they are seeking for their health

And in this land, called America
Are people willing for tribal war
They will never mind, simply blind
destruction is what we find

In another land, the people know
Understand have seeds to grow
Consisting just of love, and so this dove
will fly high to sky above