Ghana is bankrupt
Yet we rise very prompt
Though we wish not
Taking photograph with our hands in the pocket,
For shame clouds us with its emptiness
Asem ooo Ghana

Ghana is broke
Yet we carry toothpicks around
Not as satisfied but hunger swag
With our hats on,
We shy away from those we yob
Boys abr333 oo

Ghana is hot
As deadly as my last pepper soup
With our electricity as apketshi.
Dry as the bald of Keshi
Yet they keep talking
I wonder if its a cure for smelly mouths

My thumb keeps itching
For the glory of the ink
Though its not worth my thumb
With change as our chorus,
I’m left with nothing
Nothing but to kick them out.

The Haymaker ©2014