When I hear the bells' toll, I arise
I peer through the tiny windows of my bedroom and its time
The clearness of the glowing is the end of my joy

The shiny rays of the dawn bring more worries
For I know to whom the day belongs
More than a drop of my blood will be sucked

My sweat and toil bring more misery
My sweat and toil enriches someone else
However, I am a worker
I have no choice
I have nothing of my own
But my labour to sell

Behold me working for someone else
Working like a ticking clock in a clothing shop
"Sale ngaphakathi sale" exclaims the poor worker
"How much do you have my friend?" exclaims the shopkeeper

That is me selling my labour at no price, accepting any price tag put on me
However, I am a worker
I have no choice
I have nothing of my own
But my labour to sell

Oh Lord! Hear me crying
Hear me out of my patronage
Whenever I ask for the best, "The gate is open," they say
Whenever I claim what is rightfully mine, "The gate is wide open," they say

I am a worker with no rights
I do not choose when to work
I do not choose where to work
I do not choose how to work
I do not choose what to work for
I do not choose the price of my labour
"The gate is wide open," they say
however, I am a worker
I have no choice

I have nothing of my own
But my labour to sell

Melphin Lametyi
Tembisa

Source

Numsa News Bulletin No 20 2008