Living without our sense
and sensibilities
Surely now we are those Marauding gangs of no name
we so despised

“ ngeke nje thina sifana nalabo”

a farce sense of exceptionalism
high hopes and low blows
***** sniffing at every ****** hollow place in sordid bodies
unionist in their high carriages
The magic is gone
the saint was never here
The magic is gone
the saint had no rope
The magic is gone
South Africa you ****** little devil you
you lied to me
promised me cover

These few lines are no invocation of coming love
Its a song for the ******