Iain Robinson EWOK
That’s Joburg
That’s Joburg
1886
Pulling ‘em in from all places, spaces filled by plenty faces, ALL races tasting this tang in the air: “They’re callin’ it Johannesburg man, there’s fucking Diamonds everywhere! Man, forget about the color of the skin you keeping clean when GOLD shines on minds, eyes share a similar gleaming”
So they’re picking the right choice, choosing the right pick to split earth to spit earth worth to birth another pay cheque
BUT
check who gets paid at the end of THAT day?
Bells sounding in COMPOUNDing brains into broken body submission
Souls locked into subterranean servitude slipping into soulless wandering
Back and forth back-back and forth-and-forth countryside to compound to countryside to died along the way to died far away to far from countryside in compound died
Soulless wandering wondering about woman and them children back in the homelands, backs -cracking for a few rands, lacking the privilege of future plans with only the day-to-day pay-to-pay way to stay signifi-CONTINUE feeding the system while locked deep inside it
People will never settle while they keep the labour migrant
Back-back and forth-and-forth and back-back and forth-and-forth...that’s Joburg.
1996
110 years
Decades of dedicated struggling, nation bombing to nation building, hatred calming, raising children
Stand together: one hope one home
Every song every speech every poem every lyric a call to all colors, like spiritual acrylics
Paints a picture of possibility for the world watchers to see
To see how forgiveness arouses the peoples’ pride
filling the cracked SHELL of HOUSEs split by fear and doubt
Begin letting the tourists in, start letting the prisoners out
Stating: An emergence FREE from States of Emergency
BUT
the urgency of our visionaries disguised the inconsistencies in our democracy and an insistent fee became the slimy key in the greasy palm of the hands of the ARMS, DEALing in distributing the documents detailing the doctrines of democracy as it is done down South, as it is done by the relaxed democrats, down South:
Msanzi style, relaxed democrats, just democrats chilling, just democrats kicking-back, democracy down south comes complete with a “Relax, kick back, and collect the kick-back...”
...back-back and forth-and-forth and back-back and forth-and-forth...that’s Joburg.
So where to now? Where’s SOWETO now? Without the unity of a single supreme enemy comes the black on black enmity leaving us all in the dark, so watch where you park off china, watch when you piss off china, believe me
Where MTV empty me of my culture
Where a white Ou still don’ know no Kwaito
Where a black man beats black man with a black hand for landing in another mans’ land and for trying to stand inside our border and risk his life by trying to live, not taking more then he needs to live, giving all that he has to give is his life. So we take it, while our probable president purchases another wife, half naked, to replace the one silenced by suicide
Where we laugh at how we cry inside
Where laughter keeps our pride alive
Where we’re WATCHING SOWETO now, seeing it on TV believing that we be free
But still we wonder so where to now? Where’s SOWETO now?
Still we wandering
Back-back and forth-and-forth and back-back and forth-and-forth...that’s Joburg.
Viewed as the powerhouse, JOBURG
Imbued with the power of HOUSE, JOBURG
The house out the speaker drown out the speaker of the house, everytime, JOBURG
No time for any rhyme, for any reality rhyming, when the timing of rhyme rhythms flips to appease the populace and songs get made for clapping not for rapping
No time for rhyming, no time for rhyme, no time for homeboy or homegirl, no time for you homie, no time for you homes, no time for homes, only for HOUSE
HOUSE ain’t home
With all this hip shaking house music movement no time for real home improvement
Gripping the hipopulace in a royal houseHOLD while the comfort of cold gold extinguish the fire in soul
With all this hip shaking, can’t hear lips making messages through MUSIC loses itself in all this City of Gold shining all this City of Gold bumping and grinding
Back-back and forth-and-forth and back-back and forth-and-forth...that’s Joburg.
No more just plunder mining
Now it’s undermining [constitution]
Undercutting [institution]
A nation constantly under-construction, so close to completion but under corruption whole systems are weakened so see them spending this weekend in a weakened condition speaking politics over a beer or six while hearing another fucking house mix while over the rainbow, is home
And the beat goes on, and the beatings go on, and the beaten go on
Back-back and forth-and-forth and back-back and forth-and-forth...that’s Joburg.
And the beaten go on
Check the O.R. TAMBO flow, who comes and who goes?
Long walk to freedom includes a short swim across Limpopo
From Pretoria we brought you quiet diplomacy, from JOBURG we bring you violent discourtesy
JOBURG, Africa loves you, JOBURG loves you not Africa
Just ask Somalia, just ask Congo, just ask Nigeria
Just not your day Mr Dube, unlucky, sing for your supper in Newtown, get shot in the suburbs for a few crown, just not your day Mr Dube, unlucky
They’re still finding their way over the border, to freedom, across the line, to freedom, to stand in line, for freedom
Freedom to mine, to plunder, to find the same diamonds to line the same cross, using the diamond studded cross to shine and floss despite the cost
Plunder away the hunger: Shoot for loot slice for rice a grain is still a grain
Steal for gold steel or gold a chain is still a chain
So they keep coming, they still coming, devotion to the migrant motion
Back-back and forth-and-forth and back-back and forth-and-forth...that’s Joburg.
That’s Joburg
Where the brains drain,
Where a chain is still a chain,
Where a poem is still a poem,
Where HOUSE is not home
That’s Joburg
Where a man who built bridges gets a bridge built for him and its most appropriate coz even he is over it
Goddamit JOBURG
Allah ban it JOBURG
Buddah bless it JOBURG
Jah love it JOBURG
Aaaah fuck it JOBURG,
We love you JOBURG
That’s JOBURG,
Where the brains drain,
Where a chain is still a chain,
Where a poem is still a poem,
But where HOUSE is not home,
Where a house is not a home, truly,
just ask Luthuli
Stay tuned JOBURG
You ANCeen nothing yet
Back-back and forth-and-forth and back-back and forth-and-forth...
