On a hot summer’s evening in a barroom in Ovambo I was talking to a “heavy” with experience by the hips. And as I sat and listened to the stories of his contacts I was hearing at him wide-eyed as he quietly speaks.
He said, “Son I made a life out of hunting SWAPO “turkeys” Knowing what the odds are, I know where the danger lies. You don’t mind me saying, I know more you can think of If you buy me another whiskey I’ll give you some advice.”
So I ordered him another and he drank it with one swallow Put his fingers on his chest on the scars of his fights And his face was very serious as he put his empty glass down, “If you're gonna play the game, boy, you better learn to play it right.
You’ve got to know when to hit them, know when to beat them, Stay alive, to walk away, know where to run. You never count your kills while waiting in an ambush - There'll be time enough for counting when the shooting's done.
Every hand should know that the secret to survival - Stinking like the enemy and beat them to a draw. Better wake up, buddy, don’t think like a loser - SWAPO take your head off and nail it to the floor”.
When he finished speaking, turned back to the barman, Swig’d down the double-round, staggered off into the night And the “heavy” died of alcohol in the darkness of Ovambo Never warn’d me about the whiskey but he taught me how to fight
You’ve got to know when to hit them, know when to beat them Stay alive, to walk away, know where to run. You never count your kills while waiting in an ambush - There'll be time enough for counting when the shooting's done.