From the album Now There's No Room

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Lyrics

What harvest in the conscience of cocoa market traders -
careless that their futures are sown in poverty?
Who'd have thought the Ivory Coast could still submit to slavers?
Plantations own the children at home, not across the sea.

When our days are over
what should they say about us?
That we were option takers, or
Or were we slave-trade breakers?

You swapped the New York Apple for Grenadian cocoa beans.
Turned your Caribbean dream into reality.
Fermented sweet solution - island-made perfection,
You brought a revolution and left a legacy.

From those who tend the trees, to those at the machinery -
Equal beneficiaries of your sun-cooled factory.
Fifty thousand chocolate bars on a Freetown brigantine
sailing Portsmouth-bound; Windward delivery.

Too soon your days were over,
what should we say about you?
Mott Green - chocolate maker
the cocoa slave-trade breaker.

The barefoot chocolate maker,
what should we say about you?
We're richer for your being
the cocoa slave-trade breaker.