The Ballade Of André Stander Poem by Gert Strydom

There was a valiant bank robber, who was well known,
who scorned to earn a living as policeman
and after robbing bank after bank became renown
admired by every man and every woman

Chorus
as a captain of police he knew them inside out
and the papers, even the TV-news published his deeds and robberies
about hitting four banks even five in one day, without a sweat or shout
and just walking in and collecting like you would do for groceries.

So he took a aeroplane to Durban and went visiting
but did not get near to the beach or the sea
was fishing at the banks, casting
sacks over counters in merry glee

and disguised, a master of the art
nobody could touch him or so it seemed
and with their money they did have to part
when and where he deemed

but betrayed by his police mate,
a fellow policeman in whom he did confess,
a fastidious man some people hate
left André Stander in a great mess

that lead to his arrest
and he met some other friends and suddenly they were three,
but he wasn’t for long the government’s guest
and then all three of them robbed joyfully

until a working girl, the prostitute kind,
who kiss and squeeze
got it into her mind
to notify the good old police

for a awesome reward
and thought that they would be caught,
that she would be renowned get some award,
but good great André Stander disappeared into the naught.

In the good old great USA they gunned him down
shot him with a shotgun, blew off his head
more scared of him then their own
made certain that he was dead.