shadows drunken slowly drifting

empty bellies full of crippled little legs

and poking out round

like those big bulging eyes there begging

for all those standing in alligator shoes

with their backs turned

pissing ‘long the side of the road

and brother man brother man coming here in our hands

rows there full of little white shacks

rolling pale ivory bones with tiny eyes black

in colored aprons spread over rheumatism knees

spillling through the dark in a naked moonlight

full of one-legged dancers in greasy round bowls

and brother man brother man coming here in our hands

men with no faces under trees with no leaves

mumbling ‘bout things they’ve never ever heard

warmed over lies and homemade words

rhythmic mimes and a pocket full of times

and brother man brother man coming here in our hands

and brother man brother man coming here in our hands

and brother man brother man coming here in our hands

Copyright © 1993 Asili Ya Nadhiri