Oh proud Continent of Africa
Your children, men, women are dying
your crops used up, just husks left of seeds
Remain on the ground lying
With the stones, mines and implements of war
How can you take any more?
Here in this temperate climate
Time to think and write an ode
Whilst all of your tears have long since
Dried up, as you tramp that dusty road.
Dear Divine Spirit what can we do
We know of the plight of countless millions
Help us to help them, before all hope is lost
With Love and with dignity, not Counting the cost!