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Rome
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The Fever Tree
Now the mourners file in
Let the ceremony begin
Unlock the rape gates
To your childhood country,
to the slow hand of war
Their wrath has made scavengers of us all
And stripped us of our pride
And honourable fall
Their wrath has reduced us to thieves
Once and for all
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Now your clouds are aching
Aching with rain
Your laws are brown with age
And so are they shivering in the wet shade
Of the fever tree all pale
With the waste of it all?
We all felt Rhodesia's youth ebbing away
Leopard crawling in the dust and thorn (4x)
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