A day will come
When the world will celebrate your moments of folly
The time you spend looking for your face in the moon
And running away from your shadow
As sunray breaks on your body.
Agarau, they say you walk all the way
From Idanre Hills to add a cup of water to this ocean
And spit on Atlantic face to express your five hundred years fury.
They say you trek to the bank of Niger
And spit on her face four times:
One for the North,
One for the East,
One for the West,
And one for the Southern part of my country.
As you sit by the ocean like a Godot
Waiting for the miracle of your dream today,
Make a place for me in your heart
I may come there anytime.