.
Let me invite the drums,
The Gangan and omele
Let me further surmoun the sticks
All to be arranged in the respect
Of their ages and sizes
Then let Ayankola's hands beat out the rhythms
.
I plead to mama sodiq's Palm-wine
To render us her sweetness.
The gracious Omidans of this village I must behold!
The grace of steps, dexterous twists,
The exhilarating chants and colourful apparel,
Tinted with beaded waists
.
As the ascenstors come out to watch this
Colourful moment of ours
Let the gods drink to this hour
This moment is true
The storm has recided!
Here comes the calm as
The future foretolds

If today be my last
Day on this earth,
The day to give up my soul!
Should I spend it in tears?
Or spend it in joy?

Should I spend my last hours Indoor?
Or spend it among folks?
Should I be in despair?
Or my heart be filled with joy?
Should I  dance and celebrate
The Day I would join the ascenstors?
Tell me friend! How should I spend it?

Loneliness is my companion,
Silence has been an inspiration,
So I sat under that iroko tree,
Me, myself and I making us three!
Devil talks and angels whispers,
I traveled when I vibe,
Oracles murmur, ascenstors watch,
To my beloved Lucy, a woman I believe
To be rare!
The wind blows from my head to the east,
I see beyond Albert  telescope,
But too afraid to write,
Cause I lost my light!
I lost the grip of my pen!
The talks, murmurs and whispers override
My heart and hand! heart,
I became clueless,
I lost my consciousness!