Seen a face I don't recognize



Making discord, turning my days sadder



Don't confuse the word ostracise



It'll make it fit more or disorganise matter





It's all in your game, yeah. It's all in your game.





Dear Mr Cooper,





I believe that you're a man of musical taste



You will therefore be aware of the pain



And heartache, that contradictions makes



They say music is a river, yet it flows on



Regardless of the profits that make you quiver



So as we deliver the river your reply we anticipate





Yours, Theo





His response was pure mental Jazz



A sobering vastness where shiny ebony forms



Dance in dark glasses



Such a tragic display of our racial identity



Would make John Coltrane, Kwame Nkrumah



Wail in their graves!



As we stand here waiting to be saved