The last of some bad debris, falls through the coconut trees
As twilight claims me, in chinkoma-ly
And through rusted radios, came a calypso
I stood with the longo, in tiger's shadow
The longo, the longo, from chips that have been in drove
We draw lines in the sand
The longo, how long though, until we will get back home
The sun is setting low
The youth come and go, singing the songs they know
Like Mother Teresa, and Vishnu Siddhartha
We fly paper planes, or count wikis where they lay
The roots of your family, the guns of your history
The longo, the longo, from chips that have been in drove
We draw lines in the sand
The longo, how long though, until we will get back home
The sun is setting low
Is it sailing away?
Or am I waiting in vain?
Do you break all your chains?
For it to always remain
The longo, the longo, from chips that have been in drove
We draw lines in the sand
The longo, how long though, until we will get back home
The sun is setting low
The longo, the longo
The longo, from chips that have been in drove
The longo, the longo
From chips that have been in drove
We draw lines in the sand
We draw lines in the sand
We draw lines in the sand