African Leaders, I am sick of you.
You ought to be my shepherd,
And protect all my sheeps.
But you've turned to be a wolf.
You ought to lead them to greener field,
You led them to the slaughter's slab.
My herd is diseased, weak and lean
While you fattened yourself to death.
They have no barn to sleep,
You live in castle of gold.
Since you treat my sheeps so cruel,
My curse shall be upon you all.
Eat and drink before the dusk,
The sweetest food your heart desire,
Wash it down with the finest wine.
Get a woman to sooth your need
Enjoy yourself, throughout the night,
Because the dawn shall bring your death.
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