The world, people, have a rethink, is not in good health
Despite what you see; the many developments in wealth
Her sick soul, be afraid; fear, may soon pass away
Regardless of her funding and founding long-life Alchemy
We, the family of the discontents, grief; our cries torrential
Buckets-full grief often destructive for the blocked channels
Pails and pails are our grief for today's freezing baker's oven
We grief, even when sun gives way to nightfall, for the forests chopped
Nigerians, her people, are told to stay happy though
For theirs is a country of the happiest people on earth
Whose grief are held in check by apocalyptic powered happiness
Must they be when the spring of their delight is shrouded in darkness?
Who would help the world children be parents again?
I pray for a helping hand to unchain their future, now mortgaged
A lion to help quench their taste as the sea burns in flare
A galloping whale to the rescue; to help stop motors grinding their wells