I am so happy,

So happy I haven’t eaten

In three weeks and a night.

In your eyes I see confusion,

Oh well, my happiness I can explain-

I have seven sons,

They live in our marbled mansion

Under the bridge at Falomo;

I’ve got a wonderful woman,

She wears her suffering well

You can see her if you look carefully

At Agege, with our last son

Under a multi-coloured umbrella

Safe from the sun and the rain

Naked to the world.

I feel so secure

I’ve got friends in high places

Some of them are in heaven, others in hell

They died just as they lived,

Despised and lonely

But really, what more can a man ask for

Than a chance to have his rotten body claimed

By the Task Force on Pollution

And be given a state burial,

What more?

We don’t whisper here-

We cry, we shout, we groan

We sigh, we gasp, we moan-

No, we don’t whisper here.

We don’t  linger here-

We run, we jump, we drill

We kick, we grapple, we kill-

No, we don’t linger here.

We don’t gather here-

We crouch, we huddle, we bend

You are hot, you are cold, then… you are dead!

No, we don’t gather here.

Who needs people anyway?

Alone, I came into this world

Alone, I will leave!

I am so rich,

So rich I feel like them

Our men in high places

Maggot-meal in flowing agbada

But, why should I not be happy?

I’ve got seven sons under a bridge at Falomo,

I’ve got a wonderful woman

At Agege under an umbrella,

And I’ve just found me a new one

She’s only eighteen but she’s seen the world…

So, why should I not be happy,

What more can a man ask for-

Some coins, some rags, a bridge,

A chance to have your rotten body

Claimed by the Task Force on Pollution

And be given a state burial-

What more can a man ask for?

You tell me, what more?