The Kings of the Dusty Road

So me and Manda decided when we were out in Addis that we'd like to write a song about some of the young boys of the project that reflected their attitude to life. In particular a boy called Kinde and his friends. They were the ones who saw us off on my last day and carried my guitar case for me and disappeared in a swirl of dust into the heart of Addis. There was something so special about these guys. It wasn't really until today that I was able to sit down and write something. I have borrowed little snippets of Amanda's writing here "Corrugated Canvas" is hers for example.

Anyway, I will record this soon and post it but until then, maybe you'll enjoy reading the lyrics...


The Kings of the Dusty Road

I found the fountain of youth 
In the labyrinth of Addis Ababa
The dust of this city does not settle
On the souls of those who live here

Down the alleys and avenues
I met the Prince of Empty Pockets
And the Lord of Nothing Left to Lose
Took my hand and died singing
"God will provide for you..."

Then amidst the swirl of the city's soul
Between the buses and the traffic flow
With crowns made of dirt, not of gold
I saw the Kings of the Dusty Road
I saw the Kings of the Dusty Road

Through the corrugated canvas
I drifted down the scrap metal streets
Odd shoes and engine parts
Contented hearts and sewn up trouser seams

"The air here is thin like my mother"
Said the Prince of Empty Pockets
And the Lord of Nothing Left to Lose
Took my hand in his singing
"God will be listening to you"

Then amidst the swirl of the city's soul
Between the buses and the traffic flow
With a wealth that can't be measured in gold
I saw the Kings of the Dusty Road
I saw the Kings of the Dusty Road