Now the good old days are gone;To God be the glory for reality is dawn;
Life from of old;A story to be told.
Told of a society that blossomed like a lily;
Told of days we drunk in the same calabash;
Played football matches,
Drunk palm wine in batches-
But never ended up slanging matches.
For neighbourhoods were Virgin and divisions were merging.
Those were the days-Days,I was much older than I am today;
Life was drunken by pleasure,
Wives were heightened treasure
Toil to children was joyful leisure
We stood,elders sat and told fairy - tales
The paths our father's constructed were not sold
Our story was thus,gold.
Now the days are gone;
And here,I speak of the good old days our smiles were innocent;
Music made meaning to the kids
It was kpana that made the hits
Bamaya moved the feets
Feok groomed the kids.
But now,the good old days are gone;And we may say the past is sold-
We may say society is dead-
Dead to politics
Dead to hatred
Dead to vile envy
We may say the bank of happiness is bankrupt;
The solid rock of brotherhood is broken.
The days are gone;And we may say,
We may say neighbourhoods have become islands;
Progress a fairy wish land;
Mercies that tripled are now,cripled into curses;
Now the good old days are gone;And so I cry,O great Christ
Thy servant cries;
Save us from these crises;
For time has stolen the good old days,
And I seek those days.
Columnist: Ananpansah, B Abraham (AB)