Master Monday

Oh my goodness! He is in his army's form With an eagle badge His loud in the merge Lift right, lift right, lift right, lift right! He is a standing major Master Monday Fought for the nation His faith that insisted him He lost without rank No eyes on his legacy Hunger cries for his children Sleeping in sun Running for rain Shivering on floor Embraced his fate of Harmattan Late hero died in battlefield Fought to save the nation In a cold, hot, rainy days Shrunk like a sleeping flower Dumb by melodious sonic boom of war Crippled to save today Blinded to open our day Gone mad to mining the golden day His family lived in heart weep with penalty of his pension Raises hands for alms Those bullets ran behind His war riffle is his crutch in peacetime Standing major squat in parry the nation was disabled Houses ruins no hands to buildup Spent rest of his lifetime on wheelchair Lost an eye! What makes a man, man Also makes a man child Grant major as national hero Who propped up an old tree? When it no longer bear its fruit Oh my goodness! End up with nothing, wreath on grave.