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smokingbootFOR CECIL
In blood and the dust
they took my skin
cut off my head
The reaper on the road
saw me one last time
from the back of his jeep
He said, ‘Did we not kill you
this morning gone?’
fear-slunk, stinking
He crumbled in the sun
And I roar, running,
to the Beautiful Country
In blood and the dust
they took my skin
cut off my head
The reaper on the road
saw me one last time
from the back of his jeep
He said, ‘Did we not kill you
this morning gone?’
fear-slunk, stinking
He crumbled in the sun
And I roar, running,
to the Beautiful Country
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