Coal Train (Stimela)

There is a train that comes from Namibia and Malawi, there is a train that comes from Zambia and Zimbabwe, There is a train that comes from Angola and Mozambique, From Lesotho, from Botswana, from Zwaziland, From all the hinterland of Southern and Central Africa. This train carries young and old, African men Who are conscripted to come and work on contract. In the golden mineral mines of Johannesburg And its surrounding metropolis, sixteen hours or more a day for almost no pay. Deep, deep, deep down in the belly of the earth. When they are digging and drilling for that shiny mighty evasive stone, Or when they dish that mish mesh mush food into their iron plates with the iron shank. Or when they sit in their stinking, funky, filthy, Flea-ridden barracks and hostels. They think about the loved ones they may never see again. Because they might have already been forcibly removed from where they last left them Or wantonly murdered in the dead of night By roving, marauding gangs of no particular origin, We are told. They think about their lands, their herds That were taken away from them With a gun, bomb, teargas and the cannon. And when they hear that Choo-Choo train... (A jogging and a popping and a smoking and a pushing and a pumping and a firing and a steaming and a chicking and a ... whaaa whaaaa...) They always curse, curse the coal train, The coal train that brought them to Johannesburg.