The land is red
I hear the whisper of a million words
They chanted and danced the kangaroo style
Holding many clogs in their hands with anger
Some sat behind the bamboo tree, writing furiously on how the leaders loot their treasury.
The black gold is finished, they howled
Look at our president, he is a thief
He steals during the day
How did he become our president, they ask angrily.
Wait! The ministers also fly in private jet
And the senators get so much than the world
They continued their songs of solidarity
As I watch them display creativity with madness
Bunch of hypocrites matching across my path
Chanting on their voices 'we have no shoes,
we can't feed our children,
we can't drink from the niger'
In my anger, I climbed the iroko tree
On my voice I shouted, go home
Is it not you Bola, that gave the uniform man kola
Is it not you Ade that paid your way to college
Go home and stop disturbing mother sand
As she's complaining that your boots are too hard
Go and clean your attitude with JIK
Wash your behavior with OMO
Stop stealing your neighbor's farm produce
Stop deceiving your future
Cos you are the real leaders that are led,
A thief can only lead thieves.
Glass houses ain't meant for shot put players
Sweep your bunch of brooms and not sticks
Only when you see mama's soup without peeping,
Then come back with your machete of revolution.
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