Hard times turned me into a child soldier.
I held the weight of an entire nation on my shoulders,
But I was fighting the very same people that liberated me,
Cause they went & stole the hope that stayed in me.
They poisoned my nation with corruption & backstabbing,
Ignorance & unnecessary land-grabbing.
They made the notion of Chimurenga sound phony,
Cause they thought the House (of stone) belonged to them & them only.
I can’t claim my future cause I was ruined by the past,
So I turned to God & asked how long this was going to last,
& I heard Him saying I should act fast,
Before the reins of my nation slip right outta my grasp.
So I strapped up my boots & took arms,
For it was now about more than bad economies & stolen farms.
I was now fighting a new breed of colonialism,
In which our very own leaders took us & put us in a mental prison.
I rallied up troops & took to the streets,
Got involved in vicious clashes with the state police.
I’d joined forces with The Movement, but even they couldn’t change along,
So it’s too soon to sing the victory song.
So with our words, we fight, we shall not cease,
Because until we have justice, there will be no peace.