THE COLOUR OF ONE

I’m a white man, but I’m an African.
Got a house, I got bills, but I got skills.
Like they show on videos on Channel O.
Drop a groove, bust a move, I can improve.
But not like they need ta, in Ibiza, say.
My groove’s indigenous, close to home.
African American, European African, African-African, d’you still get such a thing? Such a thang?
It’s not a nation, it’s a cross-cultural pollination, ongoing like a Boeing, you know?
And this is South Africa .
Home of the Khoi-San. Remember them?
Nah, me neither, but I’ll tell you this, they got a legacy.
It’s in the hips and the clicks of the Xhosa chicks that you digs, but you can’t get, ’coz you can’t dance.
Yeh, this is South Africa. And we getting browner.
Less black and less white. Browner.
Re-inventing ourselves, a genetic wonder. Give us a generation or three, then you’ll see.
’Coz even our roots rockers are browner than, say, a dude from Nigeria.
There the colour of Unity’s blacker, but still just as lekker.
And the bigger picture? Unity’s black’s far less pitcher. There’s reds, yellows, every hue.
There’s planet’s with beings that are see-thru.
And that’ll be the colour of each of us, when we get back to one.
A funky, friendly togetherness.
A united consciousness.
A spiritual Mauritius.
With one sunny shining, one love that’s sweet.
One sunny side to one big, round street.
One big conception of one common goal.
A myriad parts of one loving whole.
Kaleidoscope aspects of one, Creole soul.
Kaleidoscope aspects of one, Creole soul.