And now, the rightful king returned
To kingdom scarred, abused and burned
Let all the land its gladness show
Refresh, regenerate, regrow!

Where fire and water lashed the plain
Bring the green springtime back again
Where stifling ash fell thick as snow
Refresh, regenerate, regrow!

Though blackened branches twist and die
Strong roots beneath the surface lie
This the old acacias know
Refresh, regenerate, regrow!

Far-travelled seeds that deftly clung
To mammal hair, or dropped with dung
All unaware the migrants sow
Refresh, regenerate, regrow!

You tubers sleeping deep down there
Awake and seek the upper air.
The healing zephyrs southward blow
Refresh, regenerate, regrow!

The humble grass will feed the herds
Oh Simba, hear Mufasa's words!
The herds will feed the pride, and so
Refresh, regenerate, regrow! A/N: Technically, Zephyr is the west wind and has no business blowing southwards. Let's call it poetic licence.