| At the first light of dawn
|
| I’ll get my clothes out of pawn
|
| As we grow older
|
| The rats grow bolder
|
| And when they sound the retreat
|
| I’ll get you out of this heat
|
| And they might send us alone
|
| Into what won’t be home
|
| Oh Rhodesia
|
| Were you ever mine
|
| I thought you should know that we
|
| Are now guiltily wolfing your poetry
|
| Oh Rhodesia
|
| Buried in sands of time
|
| I thought you should know that we
|
| Are now hastily chasing each memory
|
| Always guarded by another man’s sons
|
| We felt it dishonourable for one
|
| To stay out of it and how could it
|
| Be wrong
|
| We were fighting on the wrong side
|
| Of a losing war and time
|
| Has made orphans of us all
|
| Has made cripples of us all
|
| Oh Rhodesia
|
| Were you ever mine
|
| I thought you should know that we
|
| Are now guiltily wolfing your poetry
|
| Oh Rhodesia
|
| Buried in sands of time
|
| I thought you should know that we
|
| Are now hastily chasing each memory
|
| Oh rhodesia
|
| Were you ever mine
|
| I thought you should know that we
|
| Are now guiltily wolfing your poetry
|
| Oh Rhodesia
|
| Buried in sands of time
|
| I thought you should know that we
|
| Are now hastily chasing each memory
|
| I just won’t flee down south
|
| Where the oceans collide
|
| To die a broken man
|
| To die a sorry man |