They dig and dig until the streets stink and slip with corruption
Their pockets flow with gold but the community sees no wealth eruption
Villages perish from the pollution in droves
But they brush the children aside and recommend garlic cloves
The militants arrive to protect the resources
But then they grow greedy and rape the local women in the bushes
The Niger Delta has become a battlefield of money and lust
An epitome of sadness coated in lucrative promises and fairy dust
The imperialists roam around with the guards
Causing havoc and happily playing the race card
And the government?
They are a hardly a moral movement
Conscience is all but folklore
Attempts to demonstrate control are considered a bore
A rogue collusion is what it is
Whilst those at the bottom get feasted on by fleas
Even with the fortunes being excavated
From miles away the desperation of the young can be heard
It’s a crude war zone where even nursing mothers toil
And people fall on their knees for the love of oil