Bono Silver And Gold (sun City)
In the shit house a shotgun; Praying hands hold me down Only the hunter was hunted in this tin-can town Tin-can town
No stars in the black night; Looks like the sky fell down No sun in the daylight; Looks like it, chained to the ground Chained to the ground
The warden said, "The exit is sold. If you want a way out, silver and..."
Broken back to the ceiling; Broken nose to the floor I scream at the silence, it's coming; It crawls under the door There's a rope around my neck and there's a trigger in your gun Jesus I say something; I am someone; I am someone
Captains and kings in the ships hold They came to collect silver and gold Silver and gold
Seen them coming and a going; Seen them captains and the kings See them navy blue uniforms; See them bright and shiny things Bright shiny things
The temperature is rising; The fever white hot Mister, I ain't got nothing but it's more than you got
Chains no longer bind me; Not the shackles at my feet Outside are the prisoners; Inside the free Set them free; Set them free
A prize fighter in a corner is told, "Hit where it hurts" Silver and gold; Silver and gold
[Spoken:] (Yeah, silver and gold. This song was written in a hotel room in New York city. Around about the time a friend of ours, Little Steven, was putting together a record of "Artists Against Apartheid". It's a song written about a man in a shanty town outside of Johannesburg. A man who's sick of looking down the barrel of white South Africa. A man who is at the point where he is ready to take up arms against his oppressor. A man who has lost faith in the "peace-makers" of the West, for they argue and while they fail to support a man like Bishop Tutu and his requests for economic sanctions against South Africa. Am I bugging you? I don't mean to bug you. Okay, Edge, play the blues.)