Mada Dayo

Not yet,
there is still time for us to drown,
Not yet,
This heat is still bearable,
Not yet,
We are happy consoling each other.
Not yet,
We congratulate on her loss.
Not yet,
She's just jumping the gun (filled with bullets)
Not yet,
We might be called insecure,
Not yet,
We need more oil for blood,
Not yet,
When the train left on the ripe time.