Pack up Mi things, and leave 
One day, you're not gonna find me 
Sweet Africa is calling me 
One day you're not gonna f ind me 
Sweet Africa is calling me 
Pack up Mi tings and Get on a train 
Book up Mi flight and Get on a plane 
Greet Mi brethren and Mi sistrens too 
Cos there's a whole heap Of work to do 
Whole heap of talk 'Bout the plague called aids 
Propaganda wont make I afraid 
Ca we need some supplies Like tool and seed 
And various other things That they need 
Tired of walking in snow and cold 
It wont be good when my bones get old 
But don't get Mi wrong Who no want come stay 
Got to do good for the future days 
It's calling me.. yeah 
It's calling me...yeah 
Get on a train, and get on a plane 
I never do anything in vain 
If I go out there 
I'm gonna live my life 
Don't need no guns or 
Don't need no guns or 
Don't need no knife 
Melt down the guns and Turn into ploughs 
Got to go home for the time is now 
Repeat and fade