I am bleeding Africa,
The blood that originates from the rich soil
Of my family's homeland.
It's the blood that drips on the salt and the gold
And the diamonds that we mold into divine things.
The blood that belongs to the Sudanese villager that protects
His brother along the Nile,
To the Nigerian business man that keeps his work in a file,
And to the Congolese kid who yells "Au revoir mama, nakeyi na classe!"
I am bleeding Africa,
The blood that's from a land some call poor,
But I say is rich in spirit,
A land some call hungry,
But I say is full of hope,
And to a land that gives me this blood.
This blood that pumps the heart within me,
And makes me what I am.
This blood that soaks into the same roots of the mango seeds
And sizzles on the Saharan sand.
It's the blood of the Nguni breed
And the blood of the holy lamb.
It's the blood of a young African girl
And that is what I am.
I am bleeding Africa,
The blood that flows like its endless rivers.
It's the blood that was shed from the Rwandan people
Their story that makes me shiver.
It's the blood that's in my veins,
While America's air is in my lungs.
It's America's air that I breathe,
While it's Africa's blood that I bleed.
I am bleeding Africa,
The blood of my family,
My family from our Africa,
Our Africa that gives me this blood.
