A Motor-Bike in Afrika by Peter Hammill Lyrics

[Instrumental Intro]

[Verse 1]
A motor-bike in Afrika
Yeah, he's riding the white line
Oblivious of snakes stretched out across the way like trip-wire
Shouting
"The road is mine!"

[Verse 2]
Tracing the line of the Skeleton Coast
Ghost riders from the Sud-West:
The original Angels of Death they seem
Six motor-bikes abreast

[Verse 3]
Riding through the oppressive night
Now only the hardest remain
Look at the scars of the tyre-tracks
Look to the bodies behind their backs
Look at the bastards bray
In Afrika today
[Verse 4]
The bodies of Biko and Soweto poor
The Christian message of Dutch Reform
The sound of the monster, the motor-bike roar
The hate in the eyes of the uniformed Boer
The head and the bucket, the boot and the floor...
Racial torture and racial war
In Afrika today

[Outro]
Come in Rhodesia, South Africa, your time is up...
No protection on a motor-bike, man;
Sooner or later that normal traffic's gonna get you