Lyrics: Olúwatóbi Fawehinmi
Music: Olúwatóbi Fawehinmi
In a world of fakes,
To be clothed has stakes
Worldly wise, cruelly plastic
Waist wound, tight elastics
Sweeping dresses and so they go
But mother likes them not so,
She likes garments free and flow
Not sweeping but right above the ankle and sole
Beauty, she says, must be according to
Father's tastes
For He appreciates when we obey Him
What is it, mother,
that makes you like it so?
Dear son, it is free and it flows
How shall I then be covered ?
Shall it not be by the blood that flows?
Christ's robes for mine