Invaders
Annexationist
Colonial squirms, masters from Europe
Self styled Lord of colonialism
Queen head of a fraudulent country called nigger area
Abysmally created without indigenous consent
Blood flows in your creation
And you are quiet O Britain
Your fraud in West Africa is a shelter of blood
And blood roams in the Savannah
Power and greed prompted your fraud
And you brought war to our peaceful villages
Donkey’s years after, death still knocks our doors
Your quietness speaks volume And the volume is loud enough to be heard
The shithole is yours
The hellhole is your deed
Lord Fredrick Lugard is the name on our lips each time we die
Britain, the name we call when we are maimed and killed
Does British citizens die this way?
Amalgamation was fraudulent
Maiming is our name
Bloodletting is our middle name
And death our surname
Britain is our accuser
And our bodies are in bits
Our blood is spelt in your name O Britain
Our heart is ripped
And the world observes a golden silence
Unending sorrow is what we get
When will happiness return to Biafra, where the sun rises?
Three million died from your weapons to keep the fraud O Britain
And yet death still hovers above us
It is only freedom, we crave or we die in the hollow of your silence