Sick People in Chicago
In the city of Chicago,
Little black girl wasn't well,
Her body was afflicted
With the sickle cell.
If a person gets excited,
The sickle cell will kill,
And the people in the neighborhood,
They mocked the new little girl.
Chorus:
"Go back where you belong!"
They shouted, "Black girl, die!"
It wasn't the kids in school,
It was the people outside, shameless,
To drive this blameless child to her death,
And as she was dying she was crying
With her last breath,
"Go back where you belong."
Mellaine Turner,
Only seven years old,
Her friends and family loved her
And she was good as gold,
But because she was a black girl,
White folks all around,
They mocked her in her sickness,
"Go back where you belong."
(Chorus)
Twas the winter of '77
This child got sick and died,
But the sickest ones of all
Were the hooting gang outside.
The hooting gang, the blind,
Who would not understand
That Chicago is supposed to be
The heart of freedom's land.
(Chorus)
Pessoas Doentes em Chicago
Na cidade de Chicago,
Uma menininha negra não estava bem,
Seu corpo sofria
Com a anemia falciforme.
Se alguém se empolga,
A anemia falciforme pode matar,
E o povo do bairro,
Zombava da nova menininha.
Refrão:
"Volta pra onde você pertence!"
Gritavam, "Menina negra, morra!"
Não eram as crianças da escola,
Eram os adultos sem vergonha,
Levando essa criança inocente à morte,
E enquanto ela morria, ela chorava
Com seu último suspiro,
"Volta pra onde você pertence."
Mellaine Turner,
Apenas sete anos,
Seus amigos e família a amavam
E ela era puro amor,
Mas por ser uma menina negra,
Os brancos ao redor,
Zombavam dela em sua doença,
"Volta pra onde você pertence."
(Refrão)
Era o inverno de '77
Essa criança adoeceu e morreu,
Mas os mais doentes de todos
Eram a gangue que gritava lá fora.
A gangue que gritava, os cegos,
Que não entendiam
Que Chicago deveria ser
O coração da terra da liberdade.
(Refrão)