Song Of The Third World by InOBU
(Words by Lorcan Otway - Tune "Jamie Foyers")

Who profits, who profits, from all of our pain
While pointing their fingers at our ancient shame
while we stand divided, neighbor's blood on our hands
The industrial nations bleed the wealth from our lands

It's not about difference, we are all the same
We are all the pawns in the colonialist game
my neighbor and I worship God differently
so industrial nations turn my brother against me

My sister was murdered, for the wrongs of the past
In the Chitagong Hills, in the streets of Belfast
In Ramala, or Gujarat, in corners far away
while our poverty feeds gluttony in the USA

What more can I say now to finish this song
Don't look to your neighbor to pay for the last wrong
There is not enough blood to cleanse hatred from the past
But a third world united may end hunger at last