The sages of old in wisdom did say

Great is the nation at the trigger of the gun

Their very children innocently their words heeded

Lest they be denied the promise

The arm swift to the blade doth fly

The promise of old lends strength

Brother struck out against brother

Lest he be denied the promise

Alas, anarchy is all there is

By our own hands the black paradise turns red

The brother’s blood crying vengeance for his nation

Lest she be denied the promise

Disillusion fills my soul as I cursed those old men

Who walked with backs bent as though by wisdom’s weight

Yet only confessing a fool’s creed that claimed vigilance

Lest you be denied the promise

Yet from the ages gone by the ancients still whisper

Be at the trigger but carry not the gun

That gun of parts united in strength

Lest each be denied the promise

Suddenly, the ebony gun I see glimmering before me

Somalia its catch, South Africa its barrel

Blessed you are Nigeria, the trigger of progress you must be

Lest we all be denied the promise