Lonely London boy,
A stranger to the City,
A fluffy-haired gull
Lost in a sea of suitcases
And Kodak-clad people.
Big dreams tucked
Into the waistcoat
That hugged his frame
A little too much,
Occasionally glancing
Into café windows to
See how disheveled
He had become
During rush hour
On the Bakerloo Line.

Ask me about Gulu,ask me about
the area associated with instability
ask me about one of the farthest towns
I was there,and clad in my red gown
ask me about clouds,I've seen them thick
ask me about whatever, just handpick
Karuma falls, their sprays of violence
savanna,swamps, what an ambiance
it was, how sweet the journey was
so secure a town, forget years of wars
the people,calm unless fray they must
ask me about the cost of living there
some of us couldn't dare bear
Ask me about Gulu town and I'll say
Go and prove,go see for yourself
How a town can be secure for sure
Go and see definitions of distance
go and stop associating it with resistance
ask me about straight roads in Africa, straight as a ruler
only hills and slopes reminding you they're roads
ask me for hell hot sun and the winter cooler
ask me about very volatile beads of tropical rain
and I'll tell you find it in Gulu,rivers of splash drain
ask me about tourist sites and I'll show you the route to take
informing you that the adventure to make
is to the north of the country if you haven't,I have
you might have not realised those are a people with love
ask me about places with trees from shrub to pine
ask me about Gulu and I'll praise it overtime
I saw no skeletons, bullets, no wounds or scars
they are only probably left in hearts or healed
the night sky dotted with patches of pregnant clouds and stars
even nature lives a serene life,the bottle of that history was sealed
Ask me for the reasons Uganda is the pearl
I've seen most,in the west,the East, now north,
for all it's worth
I only need to venture the south to astutely say I've seen them all

You didn't say much and I said nothing till it was too late;
a synonym for everything we do. Focused in, and
why the hell would I ever want to play tourist?
I'm an unpatriot and uno American;
this means I'm burdened by a tragic history
and not pretentious enough to believe
old buildings house anything more than
more ****. Older ****. Don't let anyone fool you,
those old white people were real savages.
**** it,
I don't need to see the pope or president,
my love is in my arms.
I don't have to walk this **** planet over,
the world is in my backyard.