S.O.B

And every day and night here in Chicago

I know past any argument

That I'm the man you'll never kill

Because I am the son of the blues

I'm Billy Branch, I'm Karl, I'm Mose



Hear now, here now

Here we come

Here we say

He was such a good man

Why did he have to die

In Vietnam, in Angola, in Namibia

Or anyplace anytime in the talons

of inhumanity



Here now South Africa

The Botha regime is a funny thing

Because Serote, my brother

Who has beheld flowers

Serote, who knows

No Baby Must Weep

Has already told us

It is a tough tale