At the crack of crimson dawn;
They came and pain was born.
Drops of blood our pouring tears;
In poverty and death, we lived our wildest fears.
Hollow men of no conscience;
Lacking in foresight, devoid of competence.
Abacha, Babangida and his brother Abdulsalami,
Obasanjo, his godson Jonathan; this was the kakistocracy.
One family, one party, one philosophy, one degeneracy;
Corruption, corruption, corruption, their only legacy.
Gusau, Dasuki, and that David Mark;
For thirty years, they kept Nigeria in the dark.
Oil wells they split up;
For years to fill their cup;
While leaving the masses without a drop.
They legalized mob violence;
To segregate the masses into silence.
The colonial divide and rule,
their greatest tool;
and we, their fool.
They banned pleasure;
to loot as we died distracted in the horror.
They built Aso rock, a palace like no other;
Secured in its grandeur, they cared for only one another.
They invested in decreasing national standards,
The bloody scoundrels;
Stole all our land and wealth, leading us backwards,
The shameless vandals.
Every good thing they spoiled;
Like little children, they soiled;
Africa the cradle they befouled.
Their god is money;
Treachery is their story.
Unlike our past heroes;
These are our past zeroes.
For thirty years they plundered and laundered;
They came, they saw, they squandered.