Stand Up Limpopo

Stand up Limpopo, don't fall down
Turn your pain into a big-room sound
Stand up Limpopo, lift that crown
We were raised on the red dust ground

Long road, hot sun, money comes slow
But the children still dance where the red dust blows
Mama sells hope from a roadside pan
Father makes miracles with working hands
Marula trees and the tar road shine
Every village name a family line

If they push us low, we rise with rhythm
If they count us out, we count the drum in
Feet to the ground, palms to the sky
We don't just survive, we multiply

Stand up Limpopo, don't fall down
Turn your pain into a big-room sound
Stand up Limpopo, lift that crown
We were raised on the red dust ground

Stand up! (Limpopo)
Rise up! (Limpopo)
Ke a leboga — Limpopo!
Don't fall down

They wanted soft voices, we brought drums
Wanted small dreams, we brought sons
Every little village got a speaker now
Every little girl got a power sound
Grandma's yard where the chickens run
Stories in the shade when the work is done

This is not a joke. This is not a trend
This is how a people learn to breathe again
From Polokwane to the border line
Raise the dust and raise the sign

They laughed at this music in the city for years
Called it noise. Called it village. Called it small
Last month it came through a car radio at the stadium in Joburg
Sixty thousand people, and they knew every word

Stand up Limpopo, don't fall down
Turn your pain into a big-room sound
Stand up Limpopo, lift that crown
Sixty thousand car radios know the sound

From the dust to the dance