My name is Thomas Bron Mukama
I come from the hills of the west of my country
Born in the cold during a busy day of labour
Joy sprouted when i touched the soils
In excitement was grabbed and held to the sky a sign i had descended from there
God had released me amongest men named mukama as my heavenly father
The birds taught me to sing though not to fly
They flew down to the ground where i should stay not the sky for i would have no company above
The mountains werent shaken and i delight in climbing them
Am a son of hardwork laid not in amanger rather in bananas
I grew to learn i only limit myself
As i stand in abilities unseen besides foretales