The last time we heard about you
It was said that you were often seen crawling
From one shebeen to the next in the ghetto
Searching for pieces of poetry
In the eyes of foul-mouthed people
Who gurple swear words with beer
And spit at places of worship
And then it was said you later law alone
In chris hani baragwanath hospital…
Counting your last words on earth
You were so alone that the only company by your bedside
Was the whiteness of death
So alone/brother of black kind (x4)
Child of bamadingoane
Sower of words
Reaper of silence
Sower of comradeship
Reaper of hyprocrites
Now tell me In what realm of Africa are we at this point?
Africa the beginning, or Africa the ending?
Only you, the one who resides above
Knows for sure what has become of us In the ghetto, in the ghetto
You were so alone that the only company
By your bedside was the whiteness of death
So alone/brother of black kind (x4)