Wet wet, fog in the forecast
Pigeons on rooftops, maybe dancing
Women and children preparing êwá
The rain sends a shiver to our spine

Ikorodu festival holds unnoticed
Ancient traditions left no one afraid
Sitting in the height watching them
Roofs unplanned scattered abroad

Another day past, the guard evacuated
Abandoned pillows on rooftops , brown.
Broken antennas, the signals lost forever
Imam chant to Allan for consideration

Tired of the things inside my head
The sea on which we sail sinks
Broken bones and hearts, the fear
Tomorrow might evacuate us, dread

The call from Gloria came too late
It rained and I am cold , tired, uncertain
Signals, superstitions died with the old
Winds and boredom , the choices of life

As the pigeons fly so my wishes too
The dead Sea saddens my soul to cry
The spirits now dark and supplanted
Men needs home the waters must dry

Habitat are for the habitants, oppression.
To be homeless is to render useless
The canals and ghettos are the course
The spirits in the sea are no more, tears .