And the threat does grow to the land,
It crosses our border into our land,
Africa Blessed, cursed by the threat,
The threat keeps us Africa shackled to poverty straps,
Destroys our morals,
Condemns our people to death!
And I pray God reign on the threat,
Let the skies pour out,
And rain rain and fire!
But the skies are magenta, tangerine, red!
Winds billow and bred!
Hatred in me for a foreign land,
And I said!
They hate us and pretend to love,
They infiltrate our hearts and heads!
And I wept,
Because God said love!
You and the nation of all's death!
And the skies rained tears,
From Africa's barren womb,
With you, my soul has bred!
Must you end our lives for
flashing lights and bread?