In those days when our fathers carried woods on bicycles
When under the mango tress serves as relaxation centres
Palm wine as red wine, cola nuts serve as chocolates
Cleaning our mouth with the back of our hands
In those days when our mother carried clay pots on their heads
When our white gods put on shirt, small shorts and long socks
We exchange Gold for mirror, Ogun and Ogwugwu for books and bibles
Education and religion romance like bread and beans
In those days, the generations were unfortunate
When padlocks serve as lipstick, Chains as necklace
Cowries as cash, strong black men as exchange rate
Badagary, a place of no return and bad trade
In those days, other generations were fortunate
School far as heavens, Scholarships flow like river
Education for the selected, the certified get jobs and a car
Train for the average, leg and bicycles for everyone
In those days we didn’t know today will come too
Abduction, armed robbery, insecurity will become news not taboo
Unemployment on the rise, corruption in politics and sacred places
Yet our prison empty of the rich, full of the poor masses
Yup! The prisons truly are empty of the rich. The few times they do go there, they visit as the rich!