If only

these thirsty soldiers would stop sipping our blood from the calabash of chaos

If only

these resounding voices of those guns would fade

Then

we can call this place home

And continue to gather around those breasts that nursed us

And not play the sojourner's flute

like a Fulani in the Sahara

And not allow

an innocent blood curse this land

We can call this place home

We can feel the breeze again

like our childhood never walked away

And gaze endlessly at the smiling sun

This is perfect a place

A place we can call home

So our children can be proud

and dust themselves

whilst building their castles

That our wives

will love in peace

And I dream

of a place we can call home

Home at a place like this

kwabena agyare:

If only

these thirsty soldiers would stop sipping our blood from the calabash of chaos

If only

these resounding voices of those guns would fade

Then

we can call this place home

And continue to gather around those breasts that nursed us

And not play the sojourner's flute

like a Fulani in the Sahara

And not allow

an innocent blood curse this land

We can call this place home

We can feel the breeze again

like our childhood never walked away

And gaze endlessly at the smiling sun

This is perfect a place

A place we can call home

So our children can be proud

and dust themselves

whilst building their castles

That our wives

will love in peace

And I dream

of a place we can call home

Home at a place like this

Awww no place lyk home