Son of the wind
Thowra,
Thowra,
In the darknes of the night,
in the fury of the storm.
With a silver mankell freedom, a spirit was born.
Thowra they namend him Thowra.
Like the wind, like the wind that is free.
Thowra they namend him Thowra.
To be king of the bush his destiny.
Thowra
In the secret moutain things.
Through the mist and nation trees.
Runs a ghost like horse la brownly,
silence as the briece.
Thowra they namend him Thowra.
He is the son of the wind,
strong and free.
Thowra they namend him Thowra,
and the king yes the king he will be.
