A cold season it was, in the early part of June,
Heaven's pattering pouring with a sound tune.
Deserted roads, streets devoid of life,
Many a man indoors with his wife.

Senors and senoritas indoors unclad unlucky folks in the hood feeling not glad.
Paucity ubiquitous, I wish I'd been prior to now told
Indeed the pattering has made all and all cold.

Presidential silence, Aso Rock's fall,
'Arise' taken off the Anthem, heads now falling
What's up with 'Dobale'? Oh, please stay tall!

Hear me, Mama Africa, for I, your son, am calling.
My country, my green, my white, I hail thee,
But thou hast made all in the land mere and wee!

Let the land flow with milk and honey,
And let all be blessed, blessed with the money.
June's been awaiting, in the land, the arrival of July,
Shine and pattering in the land for God knows why.