The last of some bad debris,
Falls through the coconut trees,
As twilight claims me,
Inching calmly.
And through rusted radios,
Came a calypso,
I stood with Elongo,
Inside his shadow.
Elongo, Elongo,
from here to San Pedro,
we draw lines in the sand.
Elongo, how long, though,
Until we will get back home
The sun is setting low.
Will youth come and go,
Singing the songs they know,
Like Mother Teresa
And Vishnu Siddhartha
And you fly paper planes,
[A cow wake] is where they lay,
The roots of your family,
The guns of your history.
Elongo, Elongo,
From here to San Pedro,
We draw lines in the sand.
Elongo, 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 all wash away.
Elongo, Elongo,
From here to San Pedro,
We draw maps in the sands.
Elongo, how long, though,
Until we will get back home,
The sun is setting low.
Elongo, Elongo,
From here to San Pedro.
Elongo, Elongo,
From here to San Pedro
We draw lines in the sands,
We draw lines in the sands.