Zimbabwe’s doctors of untruths
The big-headed doctors have us in a spin;
Etching venom into the soul with each manic application of their instruments.
It’s for our own good, the medicated airwaves they prescribe.
We’re told it’ll help us see better if we don’t question what we see.
Just take it all in, swallow it all up.
But doctors of untruths – your opium makes me sick!
There have been too many injections, both intoxicating and toxic;
Administered under the guise of reforming the land.
We’ve been fed countless conspiracy pills, doses illegally sanctioned.
And we have taken up your calls to vote for and to sign against.
Like fools, we’ve believed in our rights and diesel pouring out of rocks.
But doctors of untruths – real skeletons will be exhumed!
My dog urinates on my car tyres, claiming it as his own.
So too do they mark title on us.
Their tall tales imprinted on our sight, jingles ringing in our ears, wounds tattooed in our hearts.
They even have their grip on our nuts and we’ve accepted without resistance.
Is there any dispute? We must be their people.
But doctors of untruths – no one owns fate, you cannot rig destiny!