For ritual I will kill
For I want to heal
but myself is thrill
because alive I have to kill
And skin in real.

Why these medicines are made of me?
with contagious trees between the hills.
It is a treasure of gold
and platinum it has sold
as the sangoma explained.

Why blood we have to spill
like a witch have to cast a spell
illegally or we’ll be in hell
and our mission not done well.

Why don’t we have fear
to carve a man and hear
horrible sounds of help
when his manhood taken he yelp
and if gone forever
we will not mend.

The life of innocents will not return
and the bone masters gain in return
Richness is their honey
but not enjoyable like stolen money
For they are always in fear.