Mud-caked boots Sink into the human roots Habesha people make their homes Of sticks and stone Ancestral bones asleep beneath The Rasta princeβs lion throne Divining water into honey wine An extra month, some years behind A sense of time unfettered by Gregorian design For here is where imperials in arms Still fear to tread But Terrors Red still fed the masses With some promise broken bread And circuses of war and bloodshed Left a union in its stead It stands unconquered on the continent A gateway to the heavens Conjures torrents from the halkan sky With mighty independence To remind the lone ferenji Of its wild zealot prayer And then at peace it shares its secret Unrequited love affair