Spoken intro)



Class programme for the



African Anarchist



14 carats he pleaded



Yeah, just let me take the



grain like a criminal should



Burdens? As in work-horse?



God works in mysterious ways



but never as a coolie



Never as a coolie in the sweat



shop of a deranged mind





Her chocolate stain is



The envy of caucasia.



On these empty pages



Lies an ejaculatory speech



Will his letter survive?



Will the words ever reach?



Tell me will his letter survive?



Will the words ever reach their destination?





Well I can hear the call of the Mosque



And the ringing of the bells



Yeah, everlasting peace on earth



And the casting of spells



I can see thin white strips of cotton



And an ol' wide broom



I can see their feelings all wrapped up and muffled



In an emotional room





Now, it's the 10th of January



And a Taxi awaits to bring me to thee



But I'm a son of April



And, the only African container of religious sound. Hey!



Yeah, the only African container of religious sound





So they make love on the 11th, fuck on the 12th



And on the 13th they depart



Back to the world of school uniforms,



Perfects with guns and jackboots with heart



Would a true story of cultural splinters



Ever shred you as a tear?



They were making love on a bed of emotional Rizla



To burn away the fear



They were making love on a bed of emotional Rizla



To burn away the fear