Red Cotton - Elvis Costello

I’m cutting up her pure white dress

That I dyed red

That I dyed red

I’m putting scraps in cheap tin lockets

What time erases and memory mocks

I’ll send them over the ocean foam

Right into those gentle European homes

The slave ship «Blessing"slipped from Liverpool

Over the waves the Royal Navy rules

To go and plunder the Kingdom of Benin

Where certain history ends and shame begins

Dahomey traders paid in powder and shot

Line up their prisoners and they sell them in lots

They packed them tight inside those coffin ships

And took them to the brand new world of

auction blocks and whips

I’m cutting up her pure white dress

That I dyed red

That I dyed red

I’m putting scraps in cheap tin lockets

What time erases and memory mocks

I’ll send them over the ocean foam

Right into those gentle European homes

White is the sheet on your fine linen bed

The blood stained red on each cotton thread

Merchants will gather at St. George’s Hall

To unveil the kneeling slave who is carved upon the wall

So picture the scene on the Old Salt House docks

Where they loaded the iron shackles and locks

Between a sandstone crocodile, a barrel and a bale

You will see the nameless faces they were offering for sale

So, I sing the praises of God’s glory

As a blue cetacean floats in the basement

An elephant on the second storey

They queue all day to see him

In my American Museum

But the Lord will judge us with fire and thunder

As man continues in all his blunders

It’s only money

It’s only numbers

Maybe it is time to put aside these fictitious wonders

But man is feeble

Man is puny

And if it should divide the Union

There is no man that should own another

When he can’t even recognise his sister and his brother