Meeting on the hill

A hand up brother, a free man's gift
we can share this summit in a handshake
it's barren; nothing to steal here or take,
there's no dividing line, African Rift,
nothing here to fight over and conquer
'so let us parley with one another
as if we're two kings' and discuss sulphur
ore and lumber, and who is the squatter?
And spin a revolver; I own Ghana,
you, Tanzania, I Mozambique
whose women are beautiful and mystique.
We will fight for Sudan-the-Savanna
one-day-soon I will kill you, blood brother.
Steal your wives and make them my lover.