Whats that high pitched humming on a Sunday afternoon
While she's lying there waiting this feeling of doom there is
Singing in the gardens, and singing in the leaves
Hot. hot earth, too hot
Impatient for the breeze
Theres a smell of rotting peaches hanging thick on the ground
And the pink bodied children making shrieking sounds
And she's lying on the leaves, waiting to be numbed
By the smothering lull of suburbia hum
She'll keep her rocks in her pockets and mud in her eyes
To stop her mind contracting in these terrible signs
What a sentence to futility, what a terrible crime
That thunders through her gardens and trembles to the sky
Oh, I still care about the future and I still worry about the past
I'm still caught with this desire
And the little black girls playing in the street
Bullet flies past falls over her feet
Gathered by her brothers come get off the street
For the times are still .hungry for the stench of meat
And the politicians new speak professional lies
Dog eats dog, political trials
While the world goes hungry, begs on its knees
The tinkle of silver under jacaranda trees
Purple blossoms fall around me
Purple blossoms falling
And boetie's border of the mind is civil war county
If he doesn't blow his head away he'll go hunting
For the commies in the back yard in his wife's bed
Stealing his car, selling sweets on Styrdom square
Bang bang
I still care about the future and I still worry about the past
I'm still caught with this desire
For a fine time
But sadness offers madness in the turning of the times
And the scales of justice fall from the suffering of mankind
We're caught in a web of bureaucracy, labyrinth of waste
A thousand rattling in shopping trolleys
Hey, Onward wounded soldiers marching from the wars
The cross and the sickle and the hammer, going on before
But we still making love, we still making war
It's not for us to even try to choose anymore
And I watch from a distance where I learn in the fields of children
How to make, how to view
Some times I don't know just where to shake my hands
White girl white, sunshine land
All I know is where I dream to be
back in my Ermelo childhood garden
Sitting in my old oak tree
When the world grew all around me
When the world grew around me
I still care about the future and I still worry about the past
I'm still caught with this desire for a fine time
I still care about the future and I still worry about the past
I'm still caught with this desire
For a fine time
That is essentially
Righteous and fine
And born to last forever
Forever
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