Lyrics:
(Siyavuma) Uzofund'athol'iMasters (Siyavuma) Isiwelele siwelele siyavuma Uzosifundis'amaBusiness plan (Siyavuma) Uzosithath'as'nik'umsebenzi (Siyavuma)
Athol' iSgubh SaseDubane Bon uChris Brown eshay iVoshoooo, wa mamee, hay isgubh sakaZulu, les isgubh SaseDubane President weth' akhiph i-hit track, uMshin
of men Every true and trusty Stewart Blythely leaves his native glen Athol lads are lads of honour Westland rogues are rebels a' When we come within their
the mental home, and it’s all to show That I never remained that same fucking dickhead from the Rathole that’s Athol Mass I represent the things that made me
angikwaz nokphefumula kyabhora Seng'lind kpheli viki noma kpheli nyanga Umunt aphumele phandl ayo phola Umunt athol uk’qaqa, akaswitche offu kulowo mzuzu ne
Spur' ongaDedel iDzan asoz athol uMahlaba Sgijimisana neSaka umaqala usudumel' ekhanda Tshel unoMpempe athi Peh Ufonel uDoro athi Qe Abashana badlalela
it you? Peel out of Orange South: Athol, shut your mouth By the Quabbin's lair On the way to Ware West, from old Wormtown Lay that long Pike down
Become more intelligible Disappointment builds up With every new release Except for Athol Brose None of your bluebells Tolled for me You pitched your baby
Athol I am the blistering hands of those who work all day Growing strong and calloused as your own grow soft and pale And aching like the magnet
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