They come from every where. Hoping to full fill their dreams. You will find them flying out at nighttime, visiting the steamy bars of Mombasa. Flirting with Germans, Italians, Dutch old and young men. Giving the men what they are longing for. At daytime, they send their fruits up country. To brothers going to college, sisters maybe, mothers in need. A little left over they have to spend to keep their feathers shining in saloons as this one. One day, they will fly out, with shiny feathers, to the future of their dreams.
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If my luck is bad And his aim is straight I will leave my life On the killing field You can see me die On the nightly news As you settle down To your evening meal….