I hear mento music making night sweet
See women shuffling hips and light feet
Feel the rhumba box humming in my heart
Gombay grumbling breaks the bass apart
My soul surrenders to her salacious flute
And shakes like a maracca to contribute
To festive dance with toombah repeating
The bottle torch lits up the opague night
And fireflies come the years remembering
And they guided Tacky to that ancient fight
For patrimony and human rights to meet
Where Jamaica stands soveriegn above defeat.
Categories:
gombay, political,
Form: Verse