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 The buildings crumble, neglected
 Rubbish lies in the streets.
 I stare through the window, dejected,
 While the cab driver grumbles and bleats.

  The roads are pot-holed, a minefield.
 We zigzag to save the car's shocks:
 Only drunks would drive straight in this town!
 We hit one - the vehicle rocks!

 I've come home this last time, a requiem
 To pack up, and tell friends goodbye.
 I'm sure that my new life's a good thing,
 So why do I just want to cry?

 I can make far more money in Europe,
 Buy things I have ne'er before seen.
 But money's just money, gadgets, junk.
 My heart lives back here, where it's green.

 In a land where Saturday's braai day,
 When friends meet to burn meat and drink.
 To talk and solve all the world's problems,
 Without even pausing to think.

 Where children can run in wide spaces,
 And shout, and carouse, and be free.
 Where parents know each other's faces,
 And don't worry who strangers might be.

 A land where the people are friendly,
 Where you're met with a hand and a grin.
 Where the doors to the houses are open,
 And "whenever you're round, just pull in!"

 Where the people are friendly and caring,
 Where they all stick together, make a plan.
 Where they do what they can for each other,
 And will help anyone, if they can.

 A place of great natural beauty:
 Hard granite, dry grasses, hot sun,
 Waterfalls, dry river beds, dirt roads,
 Bush tracks that go on and on.

 To know that because of one mad-man,
 Or two, and a bunch of their friends,
 I must leave my homeland forever,
 And my African idyll now ends.

 So farewell to the land of my childhood,
 As into exile I go.
 Some that are staying deride me.
 Are they right? I just don't know.


 Farewell to our friends who are leaving;
 Farewell, but never good-bye.
 Don't ever be led to believing
 You'll never return 'til you die.

 The roads are pot-holed - a minefield;
 Once they were pristine and straight.
 Who says that the roads can't be filled
 And returned to their great, former state?

 There are two things in life that we're given:
 The one is the money we earn;
 The other is standard of living;
 Each must be thought of in turn.

 If we choose to move, now or later,
 The shape of our problems will vary
 But will they get smaller or greater?
 That is the issue to query.

 At least here we know all the issues;
 We know what is just down the line.
 We can see the disasters approaching,
 And move to 'plan B' just in time!

 So what can we say to our mates,
 As they get on the bus or the plane,
 As they fight to control their mind-states
 And struggle to hide all their pain?

 Let's wish them the best for their journey.
 Let's see them away with a crack!
 Let's hope and let's pray that, one day,
 We'll be here to welcome them back!

 May they go to the distant, blue hills.
 May they fill up their hearts with new schemes.
 May they learn some new methods and skills
 To bring back to the land of their dreams.

 The madman can't last, and will never
 Destroy our dreams, present and past,
 He cannot do damage forever;
 His destruction will not always last.

 History will look back and smile
 At the way that he stumbled and failed.
 They will say, "Well, he lasted a while -
 But good over evil prevailed."

 There are two things a country requires
 A system, and hearts that are pure.
 Our hearts are being strengthened by fires -
 Of adversity - that's to be sure.

 The system will come, be it known;
 The Lord will prepare it in time.
 So let's set our faces like stone
 And run with the course that unwinds.

 We're suffering now in the darkness,
 But the dawn is not far out of sight.
 The darkest of all of the hours -
 Is the hour before it gets light.

 So let's gird up our loins and be ready;
 Our affairs are like rags - all in tatters,
 But it's just like a game; let's keep steady:
 It's only the last point that matters!

 So whether we've gone or we've stayed,
 We've suffered our fair share of pain;
 We'll weather the storm
 And be bravely united in Zim once again.

 So whether we've stayed or we've gone
 Is really not where it is at.
 Our characters all have been worked on,
 And we can stand stronger for that.

 So come back to the land of your childhood;
 Come back to the land of your birth.
 We'll welcome you home, well and good,
 And the land will be filled with our mirth.

 We'll bask in the sunshine together,
 And laugh at experience past.
 We'll know it was all for our good,
 That the happiness always will last.

 But let's not forget all the warnings:
 The serious dangers of sin.
 In the fabulous days that are dawning,
 That corruption the troubles let in.

 So we'll live in the land of our fathers;
 Our Father will care for us here,
 Remembering love for our neighbours
 And all His commandments with fear.

 So here's to the land of Zimbabwe:
 Land full of sunshine and smiles.
 he warm, loving land of Zimbabwe,
 I guess we'll be here for a while.

For more about the CCZ, you can visit the Web at www.zimweb.net (Concerned Citizens of Zimbabwe (CCZ))

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Copyright Text: Unknown Zimbabweans / Layout:  Dr. Igüz 1998 - 2001 Zum Seitenanfang