Track 03: This one goes out to
Album: Walk Fast, Whistle
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Lyrics
all that remain
are the dark stains of clouds
in the sky where rain once
lived before it fled
over the vlakte and beyond
the mountain pegged down
the sheep with coats of thorn
the waterfall of yellow grass
are you here to carry my eyes?
have you been sent to polish my bones?
are the fingers by your hands yours?
is this the thing that lightning makes
when it hammers the ocean
with fire and light
and dolphins’ jumps?
i shall be back with oranges
on my shoulders from which
wings grow and spread
sheets of soft rabbit
fawn in colour
veld in feel
across the nation
of mercedes benzes
absa banks joshua doores
daughters and sons
with soft tongues
and toes
like jelly tots
in the sun can melt
the sweat of fools
politicians and maize
sunflower and guns
the help is restored
from disorder and doubt
the past is shortened chaos
from the koppies the sound
of dust, of dusk.
now i wonder the shopping mall
the trawler in the froth
the hut alone on the hill
the sombre south
the ambulance in song
your teeth upon your tongue
and cartilage ‘n’ hooves in mud
so the shacks ‘n’ tins set sail
along fools’ errands to the moon
where the beasts chew the cud
and the slithery livery brains
crawl from their cocoons
up the escalators
through the hail
up the walls
under the tyres of the cars
into the welcoming room
of hot poker autumn leaves
sizzling down onto the tar
picked up and wrapped around hips
licked and loved and slept in
bridges beds bodies ‘n’ minds
this one goes
out
to
ek vou die mielieblare om
die warm wange van
die grond wat hier kom lê
die klonte mens en bees
hier die murasie met oë
en turksvyblaai-oor
hou wind vir vriend
die son opsy
spinnekop en koggelmander
uit die hempsak uit die gulp
waar niks verander
gif uit tulp
saam staan die ploeg
by die trekker en roes
die hooimied verrot
vir rot en muis
met die pad opgeloop
kom ’n vrou en ’n kind
en die kind dra ’n sak
in die sak is ’n kool
die laaste as oor lywe gevryf
lemme geslyp, was gedrup
om die vou van die vuur
hurke en sit
wolf en jakkals
weerlig en hael
die weiding borsel bloed
in die hoeke van plaas
en die laaste tong
uit die pot met mostert
mes gesny, dun
lippe en tande
kou en knaag
geweervuur, honger
die brand, die glas
knetter en knars
sou die spore dood
en die grafte dryf na bo
elke laaste boot
slegs vir dié wat glo
van die kaai wegskop en vaar
na waar die water val
en die donker broei
en als is