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I am not used to them
As snow is to Africa
So is gift to me.

Better put, I really was undeserving of it
Not with my character
Talkless of the attitude that determines my altitude
If I must spell it out
I was flying so low
Maybe I wasn’t even flying again, I really can’t tell.

I want to fly again
I want to soar
But I need Ẹ̀bùn to fly
How can I soar if I can’t even fly
How will I fly if I’m undeserving of Ẹ̀bùn

I learnt he gave gifts as men
Some that were undeserving were translated
They became light, though they were undeserving
Now they fly and they soar

Aànúolúwa-po si mi
Ebun oluwa wa simi
I was undeserving
But Aànúolúwa qualified me
Now I fly
Now I soar

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