The crescent moon gleamed red the night we died;
It's florid rays illuminating the terrors the night obscured.
Our weary lips, fairness it valiantly cried;
As the Niger flowed from our veins with every shot.
The crescent moon gleamed red the night we died;
It's gory melancholic beams our pains it displayed.
Symbol of Mama's purity, our valiant blood dyed;
In silence, Mama awaits her children's return in vain.
The crescent moon gleamed red the night we died;
It's chalky dismayed countenance unveiling our fear.
Engulfed in tears, the scary night ruled it's reddish light;
Cries of our blood, rendition to motherland's heavy ears. The thieves in uniform are back!!!.
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