Bid Mr poverty Goodbye
Our lives are filled with riches,
Our girls won't grow into bitches,
Our boys won't dance to the rituals of the street.
Bid Mr Poverty Goodbye,
Our breast flapping like birds wing,
our shame will hawk at the market square,
filling our bowls with nuts of success
Bid Mr Poverty Goodbye,
Thorns will grow not on our fields.
Without hoes, hands toiled,
harvest of plenty, we have.
Bid Mr Poverty Goodbye,
Christ riches we acquire,
For suffering dwells in the past.
©Torie