[Intro]
A motor-bike in Afrika
Yeah, he's riding the white line
Oblivious of snakes stretched out across the way like trip-wire
Shouting:
"The road is mine!"

[Verse 1]
Tracing the line of the Skeleton Coast
Ghost riders from the Sud-West:
The original Angels of Death they seem
Six motor-bikes abreast

[Verse 2]
Riding through the oppressive night (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
(Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
Now only the hardest remain (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
(Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
Look at the scars of the tyre-tracks (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
Look to the bodies behind their backs (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
Look at the bastards bray (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika, Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
In Afrika today (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)

[Verse 3]
The bodies of Biko and Soweto poor (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
(Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika) (Today)
The Christian message of Dutch Reform (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
(Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika) (Today)
The sound of the monster, the motor-bike roar (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
The hate in the eyes of the uniformed Boer (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
The head and the bucket, the boot and the floor... (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
(Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
Racial torture and racial war (Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
(Afrika, Afrika, a motorbike in Afrika)
In Afrika today
[Outro]
Come in, Rhodesia, South Africa, your time is up...
No protection on a motor-bike, man;
Sooner or later that normal traffic's gonna get you