By Emmanuel Goto
The chirping bird tells more of my country fair
But mama beats the tale aloud
Like the drum of the town criers
With rhythm in the verse
Ryhming the soprano and the cymbals.
Papa and mama will not paint this,
I will stain my ink to tell the tale
Of my country fair.
When reveling with dried tilapia fish
And spinning the square with bunches of banana,
Our dimples and cheeks were swollen
For the day was food free day.
The tale of my country fair is like giraffes tail
Coiling in the village square
Eating and carousing
For the day and night were free.
Tell me what you need in my country fair?
I will tell more of your needs in my land
I will tell more of the masquerade
Tell me, I will tell you of the tripod tale.
Come and see my country fair
For our land is blur with milk
Come and etch the image
And tell your world the festive home.
Come and tell the birds to hum tomorrow
For we skipped tiny meals in the festival
Fly to my country
Cause, my country fare is fair.