Singing For Tata Mandela
Take not the sound of our wailing for sorrow.
Know that our tears are not of sadness.
If possible, more voices we will borrow,
So the lyrics of our songs will not be taken for madness.
Africa will sing along with us aloud.
From Dakar to Kumasi, our voices will echo.
Bring your cymbals, azonto is allowed.
Let our chests crawl along the walls like gecko.
Tell Zambia to rise and sing.
Ban Chang'aa in the streets of Kenya today.
Mount the gongs and put on the ring.
Make singing and dancing the job of the day.
Let us sing for Tata Mandela,
Raise your voices and shout Madiba.
We gather today to honour a father,
The sunbow testifies to his glorious life.
The clouds o'erhead which gather,
Are there to pay homage to his hive.
The rain will fall to bring back the time,
When waves of selfless struggles and strives,
Washed away apartheid kingdom with mime,
And ensured that justice and equity thrive.
We remember the orchestrator and dance,
Dance with vigour to the singing of his name.
We prick and shake the earth with lance,
To drive to the earth the seeds of his fame.
For they are too holy to fade.
Their books must grow for our children to wade.
Tata, we humbly sing your praises,
Wave us on, so our sweats will flow.
Rolihlahla, we are here to present our phrases,
Smile to us, so our wrappers can blow.
Nelson, we have brought you yams,
Let your tender voice give the order,
So we can slaughter the white rams,
And celebrate with songs beyond our border.
Madiba, we raise our hands in salute,
The spirits of Soweto's children are with us.
Take from us and blow gently into the flute,
Lead us in the procession and sacrifice the ox.
Dalibunga, it is you we have come for,
Mandela, it is you we want at the fore.
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