Cry our beloved country,
Cry out for the Beloved daughter of Africa,
You’re turning your back and things go wrong.
Beloved song of Africa, where did we miss a note
With this state of the nation, how will we cast the next vote?
We’re moving from riches and glory to filth and no guts
It’s becoming a matter of losing the trust.
In the system we fought for, we find only weakness,
As the links in lead have no space for meekness
A country with riches is now a country with a serious illness
We’re coming from top, moving down fast
How long will this sickness really last?
In our country, we’ve become so accustomed to his sona record,
All we hear is big ideas, little detail and we see no action.
This can surely not lead to satisfaction?
We have youth plans, health plans, e-toll plans, devil-lopment plans,
This plan, that plan, in the end it’s just like sand.
Like sand through the hour glass, time is running out,
It’s running out on these plans, quickly without a doubt.