Standing on a rooftop in Parktown
Looking at the Jozi skyline and the vodacom sign on Ponti Towers
Where the greenery of the north gets traded
for the grey, ugly and scentless concrete flowers.
You find yourself feeling the loneliness of the people in the streets below
Each alone. Each empty. Solitary in a crowd of other strangers
And in your head Valiant Swart is playing a sad lovesong to the evening sky
And you realize, ours alone is to answer why. Everyone still strangers.
And you shake your head at the sightless eyes
and spin on your heel and stomp back to reality, a milion things to do.
And you put on your headphones and drown your sentimentality
in Karen Zoid stew.
