HOME'S SWEET THRONE:
There's a place I call home,
That home is the centre of my joy.
At the mention of that home,
My joy flows a new wine
From the lips of the tapper's keg
To the bottom of my chalice:
That home is Annang.**
Here's a place I call home,
She used to be a princess,
Until the Civil War and Evil War stole her crown;
Ever since, she's been a commoner.
But whenever I look at her,
All I see is royalty dripping
From the beads round her waist:
That home is Annang.
And here's the place I call home,
She has been neglected and laughed at,
But all I see in her is greatness,
The greatness that passeth understanding,
The greatness that supersedes understanding,
The greatness that needs a kiss of fire
To bloom into flames, flames of development:
That home is Annang.
For lack of good phone, the post personae is unable to capture the pictures that reveals the reality of his mood.