From the recording Skinflint
Lyrics
Tokoloshe
He raised his bed on bricks
Shutting the door to winter
He lit the dung on fire
... and slept in the warmth of his hut
Sleeping
Sleeping
His eyes rolling white
Seeing inside his skull
He saw a dwarf like corpse
Drinking from a giants horn
A foetid stench grew
As he neared the creature
Wearing bones as jewerly
Sleeping away his sanity
Tokoloshe
Tokoloshe
In the chamber of his skull
Chains were dripping with fluid
Where his ancestors hanged
Filling the horn of tokoloshe
In vain he tried to awake
Chains everywhere no escape
He heard the tokoloshe laugh
Drinking from their blood
The morning after the nightmare
The common finger grass
Danced in the glow of the sun
From the door of his hut
Outflowed carbon monoxide
Taking leave of his lungs
The sheets in sweat were drenched
By his sides his fists were clenched
In the grip of rigor mortis