O, you, my lowland brother
What did we really know of each other?
For they had seen to it that we were kept apart
O, you, my lowland brother
When did we lose each other
For you were but a boy with the freedom of falcons in his heart
When did we know we were on the wrong side?
That this war had always been just a matter of pride?
When did we know we’re still one with the land we love?
Your cry within, your heaven above
This is no time for amnesia and what glue would hold us together now
If not the soil of Rhodesia?
Rhodesia still lies in all the slain wild beasts
And in the wind of the cotton land still in their lungs
In their sightless eyes of a honey dew sun
Now we’re sleeping in circles on the stones of Silverstream
Under nectar-weeping trees
Through blood-curdling screams
This call for the great divide
It felt like an empty bribe
A country dead before the seizure
A country denied, Rhodesia
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