Under a war torn sky another little black boy dies,
I hear the mother cry, "I wish I had no eyes."

Without eyes, I'd see no colour,
Without eyes, I'd see no hate,
Without eyes, we'd love each other,
Without eyes.

I hear a funeral dirge, pass white men holding guns,
I fee the damning urge to join the marching ones.

Without eyes, I'd see no colour,
Without eyes, I'd see no hate,
Without eyes, we'd love each other,
Without eyes.

I clutch my holy book on which I take my stand,
I take a second look; it's in the white man's hands.

Without eyes, I'd see no colour,
Without eyes, I'd see no hate,
Without eyes, we'd love each other,
Without eyes.

I kneel upon the broken glass, my book falls to the ground,
The mourning ends at last; now hatred is the sound.

Without eyes, I'd see no colour,
Without eyes, I'd see no hate,
Without eyes, we'd love each other,
Without eyes.

Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me to the promised land where there's no more eyes, no more voices, no one dies, no more choices.

Read and yellow, black and white - we are so very precious in our saviour's sight.

Without eyes, I'd see no colour,
Without eyes, I'd see no hate,
Without eyes, we'd love each other,
Without eyes.