You told me to go ahead and roar
But I must be careful where I roar
Though I am a Lion, I must be careful
The valley’s waters run to meet the hills
Her streams feeding the long distance
Of great wilderness,
Twigs dried on the wet atmosphere
Spread their tentacles and threaten
To hold back any one brave to walk
The dried sands of the desert
The night spent in dreams, dreaming away
With stray trances coming now and then
In the vast opens and African green fields
Sprouts a pain that grows with the setting sun
On the woods floor dried tree leaves crunch
When stepped upon,
Even, the airs, untamed, look about suspiciously
But the night won’t let us roar,
The night won’t let us grow
But it won’t consume us either
So what if,
What if we roared,
What if a root grew,
And pulled all Africa along?
We must roar, aloud
So the whole world may hear
