I believe in Garri
The holy son of Africa
Who was conceived by our toils
Born of the ****** Cassava
Suffered under the grater
Was suffocated in bags, died and buried
He descended into hell
On the third day he arose
And is now seated on the Centre of the frying ***

I belive in Garri
The savior of the lives
The defender of the weak
And the universal mother of all