Blahiye Blahiye

Nyet Nyet

No, No, No

I am bored so

Sugar in coffee

but rot in the coffin

honey in the tea-pot

but the corpse rots

sour tamarind when you are knocked up

the honey smell of your baby's head

but you ? You smell of rot when you die.

Radio, TV, papers, twitter and BB

uncle,aunty, mommy and daddy

hubby,baby, sis and her baby

yak yak yipety yip

Why matter?

Blahiye, mine idol, idol mine

my life is yours

In a land where you rule

where no one goes to school

from crib to the bricklayer's shop

to fetch,carry, get hurt and drop

then to be your own bricklayer

and build,always huts and no more

In the land where you rule, Blahiye