Today I am troubadour
And I am willing to traverse.
I said to my mind
Rest assured behind
Nigeria my country shall groom
I will feed with a silver spoon

But when the promise scarce
Due to the nebulous SARS
Killing my people in the lagoon
Even the street was doom
Then a traverse must I
A walk of peace had I

Walking across noble climes
The nations of my ignoble time
Sprinting over fields of Accra
Peering the bushes of maw-maw
Up to the colonels of Libya
And down to apartheid.

The sight was lame and same
The end had come like a swoop
The yearning was a light
Even a dark age it was
My people have suffered ago
Deciding on the colonial table
The dining principle unstable
And burpping the wrong aroma

When shall this end in horror
The gathering of pregnant men
Tugging and tearing the cloth
The tablecloth of our future
Our dinner is eaten in the morning.

We must end this naked mess
And spare a future dress
Then SARS to the end
The NASS is such an ass
For after my troubadour
I must traverse back
To my fatherland to end
The end must be at home
A home for the rich and the poor
A happy end for the aged and the younged.