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Black or white


I took my baby on a Saturday bang
Boy is that girl with you?
Yes we're one and the same

Now I believe in miracles
And a miracle has happened tonight

But, if you're thinkin' about my baby
It don't matter if you're black or white

They print my message in the Saturday Sun
I had to tell them I ain't second to none

And I told about equality and it's true
Either you're wrong or you're right

But, if you're thinkin' about my baby
It don't matter if you're black or white (*)

I am tired of this devil
I am tired of this stuff
I am tired of this business
Sew when the going gets rough
I ain't scared of your brother
I ain't scared of no sheets
I ain't scared of nobody
Girl, when the going gets mean

Protection
For gangs, clubs, and nations
Causing grief in human relations
It's a turf war on a global scale
I'd rather hear both sides of the tale
See, it's not about races
Just places, faces
Where your blood comes from
Is were your space is
I've seen the bright get duller
I'm not going to spend my life being a color

Don't tell me you agree with me
When I saw you kicking dirt in my eye

But, if you're thinkin' about my baby
It don't matter if you're black or white

I said if you're thinkin' of being my baby
It don't matter if you're black or white

I said if you're thinkin' of being my brother
It don't matter if you're black or white

Ooh, ooh
Yea, yea, yea now
Ooh, ooh
Yea, yea, yea now

It's black, it's white
It's tough for you to get by (yeah, yeah, yeah)
It's black, it's white

It's black, it's white
It's tough for you to get by (yeah, yeah, yeah)
It's black, it's white


(*) Caetano Veloso solo canta hasta aquí.






 
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HOY DESTACAMOS
Óbito

el 22/11/2022

Pablo Milanés, uno de los más importantes trovadores de los últimos años, ha fallecido esta noche a los 79 años, tras permanecer ingresado en Madrid durante más de una semana, informaron medios oficiales.

HOY EN PORTADA
Óbito

por Frank Carlos Nájera el 22/11/2022

En las noches tristes, escribo. Dormir no apetece ni apremia. La tristeza se canaliza y empieza a formar palabras, y las palabras se me venden como necesarias, y yo las compro y las consumo creyendo que las voy creando. Nunca he sido fumador. Fumo palabras y entre el humo de las noticias voy rodeando la imagen de un rostro muy familiar.

 



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