The jobless one that cares
The idle hand is the devil’s workshop,
And to sleep all day
Like an injected log of wood
Is a menace to the sole of progress.
We’ve watched many parrotic medias
Got slained by the sword of
A myopic government
In the name of
I am the North East West and South,
Yet their home is deaf to civilization.
“Gbọ́ tìẹ Fálànà”, (Bear your burden Fàlànà),
You talk of a horse riding a car
But where were you when the horse was been ridden?
“Gbọ́ tìẹ Fálànà,
Or what would you call a woman
With a pregnancy of problems?
Yet still helping another
Fetch a water of troubles?
If not ravished by the prick of foolishness;
Who enters into the furnace of a dragon’s mouth and hopes to be vomited icily?
Gbọ́ tìẹ Fálànà
We’ll only sit together in the circle of tales,
Lick with you the hand that carries the oil of wealth,
But not on the fertile land of embarrassment.