The homie has a name
And it's femininity at its best
The essence of African beauty
With American aura illuminating from her chest.
The mind sounds of prophetic trumpets
Blasting down Camps Bay
While the words that cross her lips
Calls Khartoum's children to celebrate!
Celebrate with love, celebrate with tears
For the prodigal daughter is found
After all these years
Celebrate this day, no longer astray
For the children of Langa
Have brought her back to stay
Now, the homie has a mission
To which she must see through
And I am grateful to be on the journey
Because this woman's heart is magnificently true.
