The Fever Tree

Now the mourners file in
Let the ceremony begin
Unlock the rape gates
To your childhood country
To the slow hand of war

Their wrath has made scavengers of us all
And stripped us of our pride
And honourable fall
Their wrath has reduced us to thieves
Once and for all

Now your clouds are aching
Aching with rain
Your laws are brown with age
And so are they shivering
In the wet shade of the fever tree
All pale with the waste of it all

We all felt Rhodesia's youth ebbing away
Leopard crawling in the dust and thorns
Leopard crawling in the dust and thorns
Leopard crawling in the dust and thorns