One day, all of us go must die, bikos wi bi like wota wey pour for groun wey dem nor fit gada again. But God nor dey kill pesin, instead E go tink of how E go take bring di pesin kom back to ensef.
Human being bi like ordinary dirty wey breeze dey blow and pipol wey feel sey dem strong, nor get pawa at-all. If yu go measure dem for skale, all of dem togeda nor heavy rish air.
Awa Oga God! Yu know sey wi dey pass thru dis world like strenjas, just as awa grand-grand papa dem do. Awa days bi like shadow wey dey fade and wi nor fit run from deat.