Raise your hand if:
Despite all the marginalization
The constant alienation
The incessant oppression
You're still here
And you still hear
That voice inside
Reminding you of our strength
Your purpose
Your power
—The value of your imagination
Listen to that voice
And don't you ever stop dreaming

Dem say Ghana be free
The freedom I no de see
Dem lock wɔnna minds den souls
San so swallow the key
Like cocoa from Fernando Po
That be the only way out
We for Tetteh Quarshie that shit
If you know what I’m talking about
We cɔt the puppet strings sef ah,
Where we de go?
Dem whitewash wɔnna minds basaa
With nkontompo
Conf we make we de bleach wɔnna skin
With nkuto mpo
Mental Powerzone so deep
E make we lose wɔnna memory
Make we forget say
the Bible was brought by wɔnna enemy
Spiritual genocide,
Mausoleum of broken dreams
Another sixty years of ‘hey baba baba’
So it seems oh so it seems
Cue another sixty years of rapidly
Unraveling at the seams

To the ones who were here before us
Who traversed uncharted waters
Who knew us before our births
Who mapped out the cosmos
Who befriended the earth
Who decoded the matrix
Who invented language
Who embodied Ubuntu
Who knew the forests
Who dared to dream
Who tasted death
Who created God
Who became us:
We are thankful
For protection

Held in our hearts, a longing for before
When nothing yet was—
Prior to light, in advance of matter and thought
Reality not even a dream, space not yet in form
Craving this once-before-we-were, we sit in eternity
Patiently waiting for time to start again