He sits here lonely,woozy
Kinky and tizzy
He comes from the gold country
Cut him,see his blood
He's bloody black
He comes from the old country
He too is a son of the land
He's a brother
Cry O Conakry!
There his heart sits in solitude
Wilting in despair
Stand on your stairs and stare
Stare at his wistful face
He comes from the coastal country
His epithet "the warrior"
His episodes untold
And he comes to embrace your brace
He's a brother
Your foster brother
Cry O Conakry
Are there no women on the land?
No girls to meet him with gari and meat?
Cry O Conakry
If true sons of his lands cant cry
Take you some francs from me
And cry a little for me(him) I'll pay
Cry O Conakry
He's a brother
