Our fathers told us
And we believed
That the spirit is behind the mask
The spirits of our ancestors
Who receive the libations
And eat the kola nut before it is shared
Our fathers told us
Of the dragons our ancestors slayed
And we dance to the songs
That celebrate their might on moonlit nights
We pride our selves
As the children of giants
So the masks and the spirits
Garlands our prestige
And struts our heritage
In the market place
For the old to nod their heads
And the young to glow with pride
Until now
The music is the same
And the masks are the same
But the spirits have a limp
And our children are wondering
No, they are looking at us
Like we are liars
Was it the limp that slew the dragon?
