Somewhere in the southern part of the country
Where civilization is as old as time
And the African man, a friend of culture still
Strong, agile, unbending
With browny set of teeth
Telling the tales of offensive battles that saw the crumbling of kola-nuts
He sees himself and his own as black
And together, they ply their trades as one
Never too rusty,
Never too rusty,
He has no fear for the morrow
And holds nothing too dearly except his fatherland
He may travel to the end of the worlds to protect it
And may down his life to keep it.
Only for the fatherland!
Time and again, he's real to his identity
He's a Nigerian African.
Fatherland, I hail thee!
