After the ticktocking into days of seven
Bodies so comfy in sinful clothes think of heaven
And wear clothes of purity which is a burden
To crying God’s houses whose mouths are deaden
II
As if white masks are cold and heavy
They act like sheep when their wools are wavy
And after the heavens’ meeting, like a gnashing guy done pleasing a lady
They come back tearing those clothes, so shaddy
III
If eyes of the sky is up in high
And the all seeing story is not a lie
Then the heavenly tongues always shout fie!
You know you’ll never taste a heavenly pie
IV
So tigers in domestic wools
Get your fake heavenly cools
As you lie like ducks in your dirty pools
A day will show you mirrors which will show your fools
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015
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