Inamajo Inamajo man is dead man is dead Inamajo Inamajo man is dead man is dead
Well it's September seventy seven Port Elizabeth weather fine And it was business as usual In police room 619 Oh Biko Biko Biko oh Biko Biko Biko Inamajo Inamajo man is dead man is dead
Now when I try to sleep at night I can only dream in red You know the outside world seems black and white With just one colour: dead Oh Biko... Inamajo...
Now you can blow out a candle But you can't blow out a fire oh no Once the flame begins to catch The wind will fan it higher Oh Biko... Inamajo... Inamajo...
And the eyes of the world they're watching now They're watching now Watching now