Son of the soil
sun of the song of Africa,
as the melodies of Oliver along the trumpet of Sipho
make the streams around dreams of the river along my living life
my liver stands still to confess that I am the man Mbeki shouted about.(An African)
... I aint kick my wife but I kiss her with roses and flowers
branded with love every day.
I aint abuse my children but I curl them in my arms
pamper them with their roots.
the tears on their eyes are tears of joy ice cream mmhhh papa...
as the scars make me true black
I back the thoughts of ubuntu in war, fighting not for me
not for my family for I had neither but strived for peace.
as pieces at times I was admitted in white sheets sound simple
like algebra but pain pumped deep into the soul
that is scattered with hatred and anger but I am the son of the soil
Son of Africa*I also don’t know there but yeah *
sun of the song of Africa,
as the melodies of Oliver along the trumpet of Sipho
make the streams around dreams of the river along my living life
my liver stands still to confess that I am the man Mbeki shouted about.(An African)
... I aint kick my wife but I kiss her with roses and flowers
branded with love every day.
I aint abuse my children but I curl them in my arms
pamper them with their roots.
the tears on their eyes are tears of joy ice cream mmhhh papa...
as the scars make me true black
I back the thoughts of ubuntu in war, fighting not for me
not for my family for I had neither but strived for peace.
as pieces at times I was admitted in white sheets sound simple
like algebra but pain pumped deep into the soul
that is scattered with hatred and anger but I am the son of the soil
Son of Africa*I also don’t know there but yeah *