I’ve left my clomping prints on every shore 
since Africa was Eden in my youth. 
The sand will bear my dent for evermore. 

I chewed-up gum-trees with my baby jaw 
and bit the dry red heart with my first tooth. 
I’ve left my clomping prints on every shore. 

Europe roused my growing thirst for war. 
Her spirit fired me up, one hundred proof. 
The sand will bear my dent for evermore. 

...

Read and leave comments (3)