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The bearded men dance

and writhe with agony

mystical body movements

to the sound of vibrant drums.

Oh! My people

Who told you to repent

in a song of praise?


The priest bellows in his priest-craft

while some rolling, kneeling

and striking the ground.

My people want the road to happiness

the evil things that are here

will set with the sun in the west

Listen, as from today,bellows the priest…

Our souls and homesteads

are purified

Oh! Let childbirth come

let the cries of our children be heard.

The doors to happiness are open

Open to swallow my people

Let’s break the silence

to the hereafter.

A moment of freedom

comes to the limbs

and the babbling of tongues.

This moment of vision comes

 every Sunday.

Will my people ever

 reach heavens door?

Whispers of barbarism

and madness drip

from the lips of the civilised.


Come, let us sing the song of praise

Come along let us beat

the drums of praise.

Come, let us take the long

straight strides to happiness.

My people are on their way

 to happiness every Sunday afternoon.



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