Our usual hard stuff, fiery and numbing.
My fifty bob is here, sir
It's all between me and Jesus' coming
So don't mess with my change
I want it now, before I forget remembering
And listen to me good, Country Man
When we come to you, be the sponge that can sop our sorrows
Hurl us across this valley of torments
Give tomorrows, we borrow!
Instead you have quickly turned us into stiffs
And those you can't kill, you trap them to walking sticks
It's not good, Country Man, its not good!
Stop saying am raising my voice at you, Country Man
You don't know an inch how hard it is to be me!
To hustle in this country where my name tells it all
In this country,
Where a festival of road carnage is going on
Where a season of blasts is in earnest
And you, Country Man, you won't spare my brother still!
You've poked fingers deep into my nose, Country Man
So deep, I can't breathe
You want to tax me even on rights so conjugal
How can I ever trust your smile again?
When you are here busy, beating drums for those that suck our blood?
At noon you call yourself our savior
At dusk you sneer at our trusting patience
And then join the strides of those that mark our mass graves.
I go to bed with a millstone of debt around my neck
Tomorrow I wake up, the debt is even huge, I can lift myself
up
Whether you turn us East, away from the West
We are still slaves, worse off even
Where are our rhinos, Country Man, our elephants?
You have sneaked their goodies to friends in the East
Those that give with one hand and steal with the other!
Oh stop it, Country Man!
Don't put out the light on me
Even if you do so, I will still find my way to my mouth
And give me my change, its my right
You've always promised me change
No wonder you poison and blind us
So we can go and forget about it
Damn you, Country Man!
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