K E R P H E W !
How I wish that it were true Me, screaming blue murder Protesting like fury At the New World Order
Or with National Geographic To film a documentary About life in South Africa From the turn of the century
Out marching with placards And banners, uprising With brothers and sisters Proselytizing
The wars of the Boers And British supremacy To releasing Mandela And how he won clemency
Or just a game of footie A brief cascarita Con la gente de siempre Que siempre me invita
Or trekking high pastures In search of bald eagles Or, failing that, sparrows Or some disgruntled seagulls
Or browsing at a market In search of a knick knack, A treasure, a trinket Amongst all the bric-a-brac
Maybe playing guitar Up there on a stage More Johnny-come-lately Not quite Jimmy Page
Or sipping margaritas Facing out to the sea On a Fantasy Island Some beach babes and me
But sadly I must tell you I’m not up to such mischief I`m under curfew with a cold All sniffles and ‘kerchiefs.
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