Àwon Òdàlè

Èlàlònà

From the pit of enmity, the friends we hope to last with.
They jump out and take to their heels.

The constant consciousness in effort to marry the facts that son of Lágbájá Is gone, no longer on our side in the battle of life.


Tàmèdù has betrayed the brotherhood, a saboteur from within. The enemy that resides at our rare yards.

Lámorín was the one, the one we all thought would scratch our backs when the itch intensifies, the son we thought would offer water in thirsty times.

Làkásègbé! That bastard son of a cobra, with mouth so sweet and tongue so sugar coated, we all knew he was up to no good, but we always thought he had no evil plans for us.

Laadu was just tagging along, he had nothing against the brotherhood, managed to be in sync with everyone's choice. Though silent at even the most awkward and inconvenient times.

Probably we were deceived by his never speaking, never arguing and always smiling mien.
We made that one mistake, the mistake of trusting that they all had our backs. Yes they did, to stab.

They all took the forbidden fruit, they bit large chunks of it, they forgot the promise, the unspoken and unwritten contract we pacted by blood.

They all took the forbidden fruit, they swallowed more than their throats could accommodate, they ignored the repercussions of the breach in contract.

They all took the forbidden fruit, they did, and they did not consume it, it consumed them all.
They became the forbidden fruit.

Èlà ònà, òtá ilé yàgò
Èlà ònà, òtá òde dèyìn
Èlà ònà, Asebi seni bánikédùn
Èlà ònà, Amoniseni
Èlàlònà, Awo awo n bò
Ònà Èlà.