Devil is on the loose,
Fire is on the loose
This could be our noose
Unless we cut the noose

Someone loves the noose
He rigidly fiddles for the noose
Cos he has nothing to lose
If we all face the noose

Our necks are tightened by the black noose
Black patriots cry about the noose
Even white strangers cry about the black noose
Yet fat messengers of the noose
Indolently remain on the loose
To praise the hands of the noose
Till the raging fire of the noose
Consumes us with herdsmen's noose

Who then shall tell the news of the noose?

(c) Hope Eghagha