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Initially we florish and feel comfortable. 
We till the ground and it yield much flowers and fruits for food and finance.
We export and feed other nations with our goods. 
Despite our great population,
We never lack for once 
We were named after our effects on sister nations:THE GIANT OF AFRICA

Suddenly, we move to kakistocracy 
They sat at dire controls and play indolently Slowly downward in remote we abuse our land We have no more regard for our source of Opulence
 We distroy the fertility in our soil
We divert to refining system 
We're told, the source is fine 
Figure massively hewn in hardwood

Voracious Head leader set upon it and misrule us 
We vandalize our wealth 
From the out of refinery, 
our farm land has kicked up a fuss against us Won't petroleum dried up oneday? 
And we still yearn to become the greatest state After which we have been attacked by jumbo spirit of recession 
The melt-down of our Economic is of great length. 
The great nation now totter like a kid with spindly leg which falls

When the going gets bad, 
What is the way out? 
We have traded in vain in the beach of insanity. We die of hunger and suffer. 
All we have to do is to retreat back to our yester-Source 
Let's sacrifice and appeal the angry farm land For the soil bring forth thorns and thistles
instead of good fruits 
Let's make a lull propitation to the dissapointed gods of the soil. 
In order to reverse the curse placed on our farm land 
So as to bring abundant food for our livelihood.

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