From the recording LIONS AND BUTTERFLIES

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Jeremy: “On one of our trips to South Africa, I found myself travelling in that soporific long-haul-flight state of mental and physical numbness gazing out of the aircraft window down to the lights far below us of several North Eastern African nations as we rocketed overhead. I
pondered whether those pretty lights below were street lights, city centres, or if they might instead be fires. And if they were fires, could they be the fires of warfare of which we sadly still hear so much from parts of the African
continent? And if they were the fires of warfare, could the seeds of those battles still raging today be traced right back to the actions of my kind - my colonial
ancestors and the often brutal actions they took in furthering the worthy cause of Empire? Suddenly I felt terribly guilty at the thought that people like me were paying little homage to that uncomfortable
possibility as we raced over so many broken lives in mere seconds. But many continue to ignore the harsh realities of the legacy of colonialism and the divisions that remain today, in case they force us to
re-evaluate our wealth and our comfort - far easier to gaze down, bleary-eyed, and imagine that all we are seeing is some pretty fairy lights.”

Lyrics

Tin tube, thrown around
The turbulence is on the ground
Travellers’ anxieties
Are nothing to the dread unleashed
A mile below
Wars, fronts, rival airs
So far from our ancestor’s cares
Divide and rule, run away
Live to lie another day

We’d take the lion’s share
Let the rest disintegrate
Ours is wealth and power and divine right
We imagined away
The fires that we laid
From right up here
I’d swear they’re fairy lights

Winged toy, blown astray
A fragile bird will land today
Over a million lives
Time makes good, then fast divides

We’d take the lion’s share
Let the rest disintegrate
Ours is wealth and power and divine right
We imagined away
The fires that we laid
From right up here
I’d swear they’re fairy lights