Creole
You tell me it's your land, it's your home
Then show me door and road, to my home
I have read many books; and sure lot that I know
Lowered head I'm with you, I agree; I'm ashamed
In my case you are wrong, think again; think again
I, father and mother, born here
There's nowhere but here to call home
So kill, bury me in this land or let me live equal
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