6 I nor fit stand strait again and wahala full my life. Evriday, I dey kry and mourn waka.
I just dey waka for darkness and I nor dey si lite at-all. I dey beg for help for where crowd Gad put.
Worm don full my body, sickness don kover my body with dirty; my body don skata with sore.
Bikos some nor get sense, dem kon tok against am and dem sofa for dia sins.
God dey help pipol wey don fall kon support doz wey dia load too heavy to karry.
I dey die bikos pain and sadnes don make my years short. Sin don finish my strent and na die I dey die so.
I dey mourn for dem, just as I go do for my broda or friend. I dey bow with sorrow like sey I dey mourn for my mama.
But wetin make mi nor get mind? Wetin make my heart nor happy at-all? I go put my hope for God hand! I go praiz am again, bikos na-im bi my Savior and my God!
I dey kry dey sey, “My God wey bi my rock, wetin make Yu forget mi? Wetin go make mi dey waka with pains bikos my enemies dey opress mi?”
bikos na Yu bi di God wey dey save mi. But wetin make Yu rijet mi? Why I go dey waka with pains, bikos my enemies dey opress mi?
My enemies don set trap for mi and I don taya bikos of dia wahala. Dem dig deep pit for where I dey waka pass, but na dem go fall enter by demsef.
I don taya to komplain, bikos evry nite, I dey wet my bed with wota from my eyes.
My own tears don blind my eyes. My God, evriday I dey beg make Yu kom help mi; I lift my hand to Yu make Yu sorry for mi.
I nor fit shaut and I dey weak kon dey do like dove. My eyes don taya to dey look heaven. So God, make Yu save mi from all dis trobol.