Siembamba
Mother's little baby
See the mamba
Mother's little child
Ring his neck
Throw him in the ditch
Step on his head
Make sure he is dead

It's a blue and misty mountain
With tall and hungry trees
Footprints from a goldmine
The wind howls ill at ease

At the edge of the lake
Hyenas laughing wild
Wild horses in the distance
Don't cry mother's child

A root does not know
What a leaf has in mind
Evil comes in many forms and some of them seem kind
It's an ill-wind that brings no one any good

Siembamba
Mother's little baby
See the soldier
Mother's little child
Ring his neck
Throw him in the ditch
Step on his head
Make sure he's dead

Who'd put the fire out burning
The one from deep within
Helpless and rejected
Desperate, disconnected
So hopelessly forlorn
Waiting for the dawn
Hateful love glides in the night, evil wins the fight

A root does not know
What a leaf has in mind
Evil comes in many forms and some of them seem kind
It's an ill-wind that brings no one any good

Siembamba
Mother's little baby
See the mamba
Mother's little child
Ring his neck
Throw him in the ditch
Step on his head
Make sure he's dead

Siembamba
Mother's little baby
See the soldier
Mother's little child
Ring his neck
Throw him in the ditch
Step on his head
Make sure he's dead

Siembamba
Siembamba
Siembamba
Siembamba
Siembamba
Siembamba