Condemn me Lord, for l have eaten the fruit of iniquity
Cast me away, for my heart knows no purity
My mouth have tasted the wine of iniquity.

In the chasing of shadows, l saw vanity
On the wings of pleasures, l saw calamity
My heart has built her walls on vanity.  

Condemn me, for I've not departed from iniquity
Merciful Master, will you allow my soul burn in hell till eternity?
My sense have come to it's sense of sensitivity.

May the sins of my fathers push me to depravity
Compassionate Lord, will you allow me bear the burdens of my fathers iniquity?
Pour on me the oil of heavens charity.

Curse my precious a soul to die a nonentity
My Creator, would you rather have me in hell than forgive my acts of iniquity?
At your feet l rather die, than die in my iniquity.

Condemn me, for l am held captive by the dagger of captivity
Loving Master, careth thou not to save me from captivity?
Lord, will you also condemn me for iniquity?

I am a prisoner, doomed for hell till eternity
I am a captive, stabbed with the dagger of captivity
Condemn me, if you will not forgive my deeds of iniquity.

Behold Nigeria my motherland
A land that sits upon the hills of many waters
A country built on the ancient landmark of heroes band
An Eagle that protects her citizens in the arms of her feathers.

A beautiful Nigeria whose fields are as green as green could ever be
An Iroko that stands on the root of peace and unity
A fertile land that is as fertile as fertility can ever be
A united people, a proud nation void of segregation nor discrimination in her city.

My motherland a land that upholds the staff of dignity and natural endowment
A land of unity and peace glowing like a river of gold across the horizon
A nation that feeds on the diet of heavens supplement
An ocean that runs through the test of raging storms un-torn.

My motherland! My motherland!
A Nigeria that adores her women more highly than the Queen of England
An Olive that yields more than the cedars of Lebanon
A land whose daughters are as beautiful as the daughters of Job in Jerusalem's land
An independent country as powerful as the King Nebuchadnezar of Babylon.

It's Nigeria my motherland
A land that rests on the pillars of her freedom
A country seated on the pearls and treasures of many Ireland
A Nigeria that lives on the soil of heavens wisdom.

The warm breathe of death strikes with great might,
Arrow of sorrow seeks her place to ******,
And weariness drops in a rose at night.

This thief in the night knows neither small nor great,
Crawls with stealth, an inevitable defeat,
The warm breathe of death strikes with great might.

Anguish, escalates like fire burning at night,
Grief, like hole dug in the heart,
And weariness drops in a rose at night.

Death is the enemy, she fights with fierce strength,
The undefeated champion, fears neither human nor conquest,
The warm breathe of death strikes with great might.

Brave are the minds who fight the fight,
Wise the souls who prepares the night,
The warm breathe of death strikes with great might.

To rest a flight, a day set apart,
Like an expectant Mother ready to give birth,
The warm breathe of death strikes with great might.

A Mother's Bond as precious as an emerald's best,
Shines like a diamond pure and crystal fresh,
Her bond shelters the fragility of her children's flesh.
Gracious is the pride of her motherhood blessed,
As she feeds her children with the milk from her breast,
Her love ensures the gentility of her children's rest.

Courageous her womb that carried her children's breathe,
Sagacious the time she spent to nurture them best,
Her arms provides them the safest place in the world's length.
Brave the strength she had to put to birth,
Relief the sigh she had as she brought forth,
Her arms the joy of carrying them felt.

A Mother's Children are her hope, she protects them with great strength,
They are her reason for living, she defends them with such might,
Her bond prevents them  their chances of poor health.
Having them around, gives her reason to live,
Seeing them strong, gives her a sigh of relief,
Her love showered on them feels no grief.

Happiness, radiates her face with smile,
Joy, motivates her to go extra-mile,
Her bond immeasurable keeps them to her side.
A mother's love knows neither small nor great,
From her children she derives her strength,
Her arms lights their darkness at night.

To rest her head, she have no regrets,
Having trained her children to her great taste,
Gracious is the pride of her motherhood blessed.
She dies a fulfilled and a happy death,
Having enjoyed the fruits of her labour at last,
A Mother's Bond is as precious as an emerald's best.