THE LAND OF ZAMBEZI.v6

[Intro] This song is for my brother-in-arms from sunny Zimbabwe — Masare Blessing. (Mbira solo, ambient: distant bird call, rustling palms, water lapping. Soft hosho pulse. Pause. Calm male voice, low register.) [Verse 1] Mist drifts across the water, Palms stand like dark silhouettes. The sun rises slow, First rays break through the leaves, Scattering into a thousand golden points. I remember every dawn. It’s like the world is being born again. The sand at the edge is dark and firm, It springs underfoot, Then the water washes the footprints away. As if it erases everything that’s not important. Leaves only what matters. [Pre-Chorus] The air is thick with scents: Wet earth after rain, Smoke from the hutsi (fire), Salt from the ocean somewhere nearby. And that warm smell of dry palm leaves. It gets into your skin, your hair, your clothes. Stays inside as the quietest reminder of home. [Chorus] (Mbira wider, hosho denser, voice rises) Land of Zambezi — you live inside me, In every breath, in every dream. Palms, river, sand, and mist — this isn’t just memory. This is me. This is home. [Verse 2] Leaves rustle even without wind, Like the river whispers through them. I know that rustle by heart. Close your eyes and it seems children are running nearby. Birds hang over the water, their cries sharp but not alarming. Just the voice of the river. When they fall silent, a full silence comes —  You hear Zambezi flowing, Wind moving the leaves, A child laughing far away. [Pre-Chorus] Further down, the sand is light and fine, Swirling in the current like golden dust. You stand knee-deep in warm water, Everything heavy washes downstream. Only the river remains. You. And home. [Chorus] Land of Zambezi — you live inside me, In every breath, in every dream. Palms, river, sand, and mist —  this isn’t just memory. This is me. This is home. [Bridge] (Only mbira and hosho, beat drops, voice almost whisper) I miss the morning noise of the house. The voice of my wife, softer than this river at dawn. I miss the children. Their breath — warm and quiet, So still you want to freeze time. I know they miss me too. [Verse 3] You know what’s strange? Here, where the sky is grey and it’s winter, I sometimes feel that smell. Palm leaves, smoke, wet earth. It hits me suddenly — in the metro, in a queue, At three in the morning. And I stand there, smiling. Because I remember: Where Zambezi flows, dawn always starts the same way. Slowly, quietly, As if it’s in no hurry, As if it knows it has all the time in the world. [Chorus] (Full mbira, hosho, ngoma pulse, strong huro voice) Land of Zambezi — you live inside me, in every breath, in every dream. Palms, river, sand, and mist —  this isn’t just memory. This is me. This is home. [Outro] (Fade out: mbira cyclic pattern, soft hosho, distant bird call) Zambezi… my land… Palms… mist… sand… Not just memory. I am you. (Silence. One mbira note. Pause.)