Cry Africa.

Your belly is saturated with the blood of your children
who plundered whilst resisting eternal subjugation.
Your babies dying sooner than your elders,
The ribs of your people pointing out towards the heavens.
Your people roaming in the streets of the ghettos,
Your children seeking a past stolen from them,
Your daughters, our mothers labouring away.
Our souls enslaved by the same people who caused this,
Our leaders like rabid dogs, killing the masses to fill their bellies.
Bellies?
Your people's bellies are hollow, starvation has become the norm.
Cry, O cry Africa!
The sons you sent to lead the people where slain long ago...
Over and over again, slain to no avail.
Is that why you fear to send more sons, do you fear they shall be slain?

Cry Africa, because today in Sudan many died,
Cry Africa because today your people are disunited,
Cry Africa; cry because your people are restless.
Today, your people worship their oppressor's gods,
Today, your people rank with their masters dogs,
Today, your daughters sell their bodies for bread!
Africa, between your tears and mine, where lies the answer?

Drop your head to the ground Africa, because you
once nurtured majestic kings and now corrupt maggots feed of you.
Weep because your precious stones enrich those
who came to demote your people to the lower ranks of animals.
Wail because your people have lost that divine connection
with your and their creator through which justice shall prevail.
But do not weep for long...
Send a reverberating call to God, a call for his wisdom,
A call for him to touch the minds of the youths,
A call for him to embed courage in our hearts,
A call for him to stop delaying your people's emancipation,
And at the end of your shuddering call, let revolution be born.