Come brother, we laughed in the days of yore,
Those good old days, when my bosom friend, you were.
My doors to you wide were open
Like Nile's bounteous banks.
The day we sat to ponder.
Ponder, we did to make men soar,
To heights in dreams uncaged,
Vultures, we called the planners,
Whom we said decided our fates.
Then to you we did give honour,
The honour to rid us of the enmeshed disease.
A glorious moon, you did signal,
The moon denies its image now.
You now call us shadows, from that lofty height,
You stand a god and crumps you pour,
'Paupers undeserving', so you say.
Our children, dregs of dogs, you show no care.
Come brother, from that lofty mountain height,
Come to us your pals of old, for your years portend doom.
Come brother, the men who made you still beckon,
And reckon you should, in times like this.
Kilimanjaro heights can't save a man
From the voices that made him.
Grand Pa says you come to us
Humble as you were before,
For wisdom of our fores you not derail,
Their eyes beyond your heights do see.