Written by: Samuel Fatokun Ph

 A friend of races and that of the ages
 A friend of the enemy, an enemy of a friend
 A man unseen, but still distinct
 A son of the horn and at times of light
 The accidents you've caused, are the causes of curse.

 Our guns are ready to kill the unseen
 Our targets are made, we are ready to retaliate 
 But like in a dream we found ourselves screaming,
 All at gunpoint!Looking fiercely to kill!
 Our ears are deaf even to ourselves 
 Just like a scene the robber started the robbery! 

 Slings we've made to kill for a meal,
 But the meal is already in our bloodstream
 The way he took we never know,  
 Our traps are in vain,to track the rails, 
 Indeed! We are derailed!       
 The more we try, the less we are 
 It's like we are mad, 'to chase the wind' 
 And this breaks the seat!

 Our missions are tough, like chasing the storm
 But a day will come, that our suffering shall stop
 Then our victory shall come! 
 But a shame it is, that day i mean
 Our journey shall start, 
 When our victory arrives!