Whilst you wander on the great savanna,

Of our great ancestor warriors,
During this time when you're meeting,
All thoise loved ones who went before,
Do you stop and think of me?

Do you stop and remember,
A friendship born of youth,
Growing up in the follwing years?
Do ou ever think of me, your friend Ben?

As you roam the spiritual hills,
And join in the songs of old,
Dance the warrior's dance,
That modern living has hidden,
Do you, son of Chief, ever think of me.

I think of you nearly every day,
Because you are in the work I do,
You are in the songs I sing,
You are in the way I feel.
Yes, in this world of living
The world you left behind,
I still think of you.

Oh yes, the meat on the 'brai' is still hot,
The meat lacks the 'piri-piri' bite,
The beer is icy cold, the way we like,
But still it tastes so bland,
The sun still beats down
And I still carry on.
And I can't help stopping and wondering,
Every now and then,
That in the great savanna in the sky,
Do you ever stop and say to those around,
"I have a friend called Ben"?