The Ballad Of Andy Moore

by Nash Sibanda



Just a fiction, this one...


On the side of lonely peaks,
With a man who never speaks.
Staring into shallow seas,
Of arguments and quandaries.
I asked him, where should I go?
Had a feeling he would know.
He pointed east, back down the road,
To distant lands, and my abode.

I met a girl with flaxen hair,
Who could make you stop and stare.
She looked at me, and walked away,
But I invited her to stay.
She said I look like Andy Moore,
I'd never heard of him before.
I told her this, she gasped in fear,
And said my time was coming near.

On the gilded wheels of time,
There's a poet, who never rhymes.
A little man, with cardboard shoes,
Always looking to accuse.
He saw me walking past his door,
And he said, "Aren't you Andy Moore?"
I told him no, he closed his gate,
Ejected me from his estate.

Walking through the village streets,
Looking for a place to eat.
Attracting looks from all I see,
Glares of animosity.
I pass a church, and look inside,
Looks like someone must have died.
A tombstone lying on the floor,
Here's lies the corpse of Andy Moore.


released January 15, 2009
Written, performed and produced by Nash Sibanda



all rights reserved


feed for this artist


Nash Sibanda

contact / help

Contact Nash Sibanda

Streaming and
Download help