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That’s what you dance with your toe
And you do it, moving fro and to
With your back bent like a bow,
As if you’ve seen a foe.
Azonto… Azonto…
How it came about you don’t know.
But you just dance it, bend down low
And to any extent you’re ready to go,
Just to dance it like a pro.
Azonto… Azonto…
It has been in existence since cockcrow
For our forefathers danced to its tempo
At moonlight tales with uncle Joe
And they danced it better than you – pro.
Say, what is there in Azonto?
That makes you think you’re a foe
Simply because you can’t dance it so
You feel dejected like a doe
‘Cos they dance it better, Nancy and co.
meet the poet: Austus Ofmat Nwanne
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