5 Bikos of my sins, di sore for my body don start to smell.
Medicine nor dey Gilead again? Doctors don finish for here? If dem dey, wetin make dem neva cure my pipol?
My God Yu know all di sins wey I kommit for sekret; bikos my sins nor fit hide from Yu.
I dey shame well-well and na so-so sick I dey sick.
Wen I nor gri konfess my sins, my body kon dey die go and I kon dey kry with pain.
I sey, My Oga God, I dey shame to raiz my head for yor front. Awa sins high pass awa head; dem even high rish heaven.
So my God, abeg, make Yu save mi! Make Yu kwik-kwik kom help mi.
But blessing go follow di pesin wey Yu choose to stay yor palis. Make di good tins wey dey yor house, yor holy place, beleful us.