WELCOME TO THE WORLDCUP, AFRICA’S WORLDCUP…..

WELCOME TO THE WORLDCUP, AFRICA’S WORLDCUP…..

We’re the national teams,
Well kitted
Top to bottom
Resplendent
Colours in abundance
So fly
We wear black tailor-made suits
Forget the cute and cuddly earpieces
We prefer those the size of melons
We earn millions
We’re footballing gods
We’re the one in a millions.


Black on black
Red on black
Yellow on black
Colour? We do not lack.
Armed with earpieces
Whistles
And a deck of cards.
We’re the pitch police
Riding on two inch chrome rims
Fumble
Tackle
Or irk me with a cackle
You just might have an early shower.
See those two waving flags
That’s not K’naan
They’re my sidekicks
Don’t ever let ‘em catch you on my blindside
That’s offside
I don’t do the chicken slide.
They call me the referee
I own the turf
I can make or break your game
With my cards and whistle.
Respect the game
Fair play’s the name
We all emplaned
To Africa just for the game
Football’s the name
Suit up boys, welcome to Africa’s hall of fame.


We’re the stadiums
Kitted suited with all gadgets
And nifty trickery.
Tell a fib to make a stadium date?
Hope you’re not caught in a lie
Cuz we just might catch you on camera.
Now that’s no lie.
Grass so green
Trim and shiny
I can see my reflection
Total perfection
Adorned with posts on opposite sides.
We host the games
Make no mistake,
We love the game.
Go to go now,
Tis a few hours to the game,
Shower me; deck me all out, make me pretty
Can you blame me? I live for the beautiful game.


We’re the fans
We turn up in numbers just for the game.
An ol fashion kickabout
With a coveted trophy at stake.
Herald the roman soldiers from Italy
The Aztecs from Mexico
The torch and pot bearers from Ghana
I can make out Uncle Sam in his top
The God save the Queen singing English
The ever green Nigerians
The rainbow goggle wearing South Africans
All tooting vuvuzelas and doing the Mexican wave
Interspersed with intricate dances and welcoming smiles.
Spectacular and colourful
Feast your eyes on the stadiums
Just like ancient Rome’s coliseum
Maybe a tad more spectacular
Packed to the hilt
With a cacophony in songs
This is where football lives
We’re the fans of the game
We sing concertos just for the game.


Let the games begin,
He’s everywhere
He defines the game.
In Africa, we call him Jabulani
You can just call him plain and simple
A soccer ball.
Keeper fumbles
He spills
Easy tap in.
He hangs his head in shame
But wait he recovers, guess what
Blame it on the jabulani.
Long range effort, keeper’s at full stretch
Fantastic catch, he beats his chest
And asks, who’s your daddy?
Don’t worry about me, I’m all over the jabulani.
What’s a footballer’s excuse for a wayward shot?
Just blame it on the one they call jabulani
He’s too erratic, lacks cohesion
Talks too much, listens to loud music
Too round, full of hot air
In short, we hate the jabulani.


After years of waiting
The world has Africa under the microscope
Listen to ‘em, they’re at their blabbing best.
So many complaints and nitpicking
Too much rainfall
We wish it were summer
The winter’s too cold
We’re scared of frostbite
The food tastes lousy
The stadiums are too packed
Vuvuzela’s too loud
Please somebody, save us from the vuvuzela
We hate the noise, these Africans are too loud
So proud, they love the game too much.
To all their excuses, complaints and tantrums,
Just tell ‘em jabulani…..
Stand tall
Stand proud
We are Africa
We love the Jabulani
We love the vuvuzela.
From the pyramids in Egypt
To the slums of Soweto
From the horn of Africa
To far reaches of West Africa
We declare our love for the beautiful game.
Welcome to Africa’s world cup
Welcome to Africa, the world’s centre stage.
This is our coming of age party
This is Africa!!!!!
This is where football lives…..