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September '77 Port Elizabeth weather fine It was business as usual In police room 619 Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja -The man is dead When I try to sleep at night I can only dream in red The outside world is black and white With only one colour dead Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja -The man is dead You can blow out a candle But you can't blow out a fire Once the flames begin to catch The wind will blow it