The sea roar in anger
and spit forth heavy wind
pulling rocks and stones
threatening all inocent green
washing through the huts
with rage on raffia roof
i hear it softly swears
to tear and crack the clay
our little billy goat
plead in tender bleat
'pull us not apart...
...leave us to our path'
the dust and haze realise
creating shivers and fear
mother hen is curled in cage
frantic brave but stunned to death
'come home my chicks...
...dont brace the windy tricks'
despite the strenght you bare
no mater the time it takes
you'll turn your wing around
and leave us to our ground
straight, you will head
to the sea which you came.