1976, in the dusty streets, anxiously waiting as my heart skips a beat. Heavily breathing, can’t wait for that sweet smell of teargas, that gives us tears of joy, running in celebration, there’s no turning back.
Fully prepared with bricks as ammunition, they can’t stop us with teargas and live rounds. They are just a bunch of brutal cops with real guns and we are a group of angry students and we’re young. There’s no way we losing this one. I’m still waiting for 16 June to happen.
1976, burning tyres in the streets, no surrender, no retreat. Don’t tell anyone about this secret meeting, we take to the streets on June 16th. So iron your shirts and shine your shoes, because tomorrow is our first day at school. We’re taking part in history, I encourage you to join us. I’m still waiting for 16 June to happen.
1976, we will raise our fists because what kind of education is this? Go ahead and beat us up, release the dogs on us and shoot at us. That’s less torture compared to you speaking Afrikaans during my maths class. Askies baas but I can’t, this is not for us. Where is Mbuyisa? Call him and tell him to join us as we fight against these two faced backstabbing oppressors. I’m still waiting for 16 June to happen.
1976, we will take to the streets and we shall overcome all of this. Willing to die only to be forgotten because the youth will be way too rotten, antisocial stuck in social media, underage having unprotected sex, educated fools stuck in this clean mess, useless information getting shown in the press. Nothing else will stop our unrest because, I’m still waiting for 16 June to happen.
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