From the recording Skinflint
Mathoa
On their ankles
They tie the ropes
Of the mathowa
Stomping their feet
In harmony with spirits
To the sounds of mathowa
The sun they feel
Burning their souls
Into shadows on rocks
Drenched in sweat
The barren lands
Give illusions of water
Their sorrows are felt in song
But hope is never lost
Amended in borankana
Their ancestors awaken to the sounds
Emating from the semi circle
Of leather cladded warriors
Forming clouds of black
Their anger rumbling above
Splitting the horizon with thunder
Their sorrows are felt in song
But hope is never lost
Amended in Borankana
Clapping their hands
In song and prayer
To the sounds of mathowa
Stomping their feet
In rythm with spirits
To the sounds of mathowa
Drenched in rain
The barren lands
Flow with water
The kralls are filled
The crops they grow
and everyone is happy
Mathowa