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ISLAND OF CULTURE
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ISLAND OF CULTURE
Island of culture
Facial neutrality equals ignorance
Those who know the truth have refused to talk;
Lest them be denied of cakes baked on greedy oven
And fired with our blood.
Stupidity leads to dominance
But who shall ever be stupid?
Other than elders of the land
Who were shown the reminiscence mark of how they were saved and non of how they were killed.
They see the bread but not the syringe
Nor the vampire's pipe buried deep into our veins.
Only the lords celebrate their birthdays
They are the few in whose tent we're forced to entrust our tents.
They steal from us
And borrow for us when there is nothing to steal
Only to steal what they've borrowed.
They found friends on these vultures wheeling over our bones;
On the big shinning bellies of our children they wait for a meal.
Like the lords, they grow fat on our pain.
A new one; helmeted Agbada.
Zero-corruption forms the creed
(same creed endorsed by greed)
Yet the commanders race to empty the treasury.
From our grass houses,
We watch them on banquet atop their glass houses
Their siren and matching guns scare us and some of our heroes to their graves.
Island of culture
Every heart hope engraved
One day;
A every house shall name a revolutionary
To write a new creed by the people for the people.
That day, this yoke on our weak necks shall be broken
And this army of young scavengers shall go home to their teachers.
That day, from the Sahara to the bank of the Niger,
We shall sing the rhapsody of a people freed.
Facial neutrality equals ignorance
Those who know the truth have refused to talk;
Lest them be denied of cakes baked on greedy oven
And fired with our blood.
Stupidity leads to dominance
But who shall ever be stupid?
Other than elders of the land
Who were shown the reminiscence mark of how they were saved and non of how they were killed.
They see the bread but not the syringe
Nor the vampire's pipe buried deep into our veins.
Only the lords celebrate their birthdays
They are the few in whose tent we're forced to entrust our tents.
They steal from us
And borrow for us when there is nothing to steal
Only to steal what they've borrowed.
They found friends on these vultures wheeling over our bones;
On the big shinning bellies of our children they wait for a meal.
Like the lords, they grow fat on our pain.
A new one; helmeted Agbada.
Zero-corruption forms the creed
(same creed endorsed by greed)
Yet the commanders race to empty the treasury.
From our grass houses,
We watch them on banquet atop their glass houses
Their siren and matching guns scare us and some of our heroes to their graves.
Island of culture
Every heart hope engraved
One day;
A every house shall name a revolutionary
To write a new creed by the people for the people.
That day, this yoke on our weak necks shall be broken
And this army of young scavengers shall go home to their teachers.
That day, from the Sahara to the bank of the Niger,
We shall sing the rhapsody of a people freed.
