Whenever Eyo steps out in gurgling white,
The egret is ashamed of its wings
The snow recoils into London sky.
Lo and behold Agogoro Eyo, patriarch of all carnivals
The socialite masquerader with capitalist charm.
Eyo, Oh, Eyo!
The myth of Adimu, with a cap as black as an isin’s seed
Riddle of Laba, a spectacular cap as red as a rose
I have seen Oniko in his legendary dance,
Taunting the moon with his yellow cap
Seen Ologede with Island grace,
His cap as green as riverside pine
Now: Purple-headed like a royal bride,
The Agere storms the scene in elegant steps.
Eyo, o, Eyo,
Do not flog me,
I am not the novice that came on a bike!
My sandals are off, my cigarette is dead
Spare me your droning whip
I have loosened the suku on my humble head.
Eyo, o, Eyo!
The riddle of Oniko
Myth of Adimu
Ageere’s unbending spirit
Ologede’s Island soul
Okinlaba has hit the city square
With his Opambata staff of Spartan healing.
