Burying Africa
Of desert sands
And arid lands
Of highest mountains
Proudly stands
Of open plains
Of fertile soil
Where no man has touched
His hand to spoil
Of forests vast
And verdant gloss
Of river snakes
And silver dross
Africa stands huge and humble
In poverty it seems to drunkenly stumble
Of violence powerfully fed
Its bloody rivers washes red
Washing away a future splendid
As riches are pillaged
Whilst ruffians spend it
Oh Africa, continent of my heart
How widows howl as crowds depart
Sinking boxes into the soil
At the end of a futile toil
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