![Transcription Center logo](/themes/custom/tc_theme/assets/image/logo.png)
This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.
Freedomways Second Quarter 1973 Precious Lord, Take My Hand Sadanand Rege When newspapers brought the news radios and TVs were already shedding crocodile tears. It's their job they said; somebody pays them sinister ransom for this fat, fabulous ritual. They made us weep too When we wanted to be serene and silent, and we're shocked and we whispered amongst us rumours of suspicion and hatred. Diplomats stood prophetlike in readiness and making their girl-stenos sit on their laps dictated to them dictionaries of words, antonyms, synonyms and idioms. How good, godly, goody-goody all-time jolly good black fella you're etc. All about us was the air polluted with the stink of wordy filth. And in Memphis there was no sun. We're dancing the devil-dance When all of a sudden, lo-blood on the moon and stars! We're the haters, apostles of Judas. Sure, our revenge we'd taken our revenge against the black - everything black, the colour of ebony, Robeson, Owen, Othello, Luthuli, Kenyatta, Night without stars. Stark naked in our whiteness We'd hidden our bloody 146