Now the mourners file in Let the ceremony begin Unlock the rape gate
To your childhood country To the slow-hand war Their wrath has made scavengers of us all, And stripped us of our pride
An honorable fall Their wrath has reduced us to thieves Once and for all
Now your clouds are aching; Aching with rain Your laws are brown with age
And so I lay, shivering in the wet shade Of the Fever Tree, all pale With the waste of it all
We all felt Rhodesia's youth Ebbing away; Leopard crawling in the dust and thorns Leopard crawling in the dust and thorns Leopard crawling in the dust and thorns Leopard crawling in the dust and thorns