Verse 1)
The Harmattan winds are blowing dry across the land
The tinsel and the fairy lights are strung by every hand
December's sweet commotion, the shopping rush is on
But down in Osu market, there’s a voice from dusk till dawn
He stands upon an overturned, rusted blue oil drum
He’s Ebo Nowa, sweat is on his brow, and his time has come.
He doesn't have a megaphone, just conviction in his gaze
And he's interrupting carols in a most peculiar haze.
(Chorus)
He cries, "Mark down the date, remember what I say!
Twenty-Fifth of December, is the world’s final day!
The turkey and the jollof rice will turn to ash and dust!
Forget your presents, people, put aside your greed and lust!
The clock is ticking, ticking fast, from now until the morn,
When the Savior's born, the final horn is also going to be born!
Repent, relax, or run and hide! Do what you will, but know,
It all ends, twenty-fifth of Dec," says Ebo Nowa, Ebo Nowa!
(Verse 2)
The tourists pause their haggling, the taxi drivers laugh
They check their phones for updates, thinking maybe it’s a gaffe
The newspaper reporter scribbles something on a pad
“Eccentric local man claims Christmas is quite bad.”
His wife, she brings him water, shakes her head and sighs out loud
"Ebo, dear, you're making quite a scene for this huge crowd!
The children are embarrassed, and your prophesies are late,
You swore the flood was coming back in nineteen eighty-eight!"
(Chorus)
But he cries, "Mark down the date, remember what I say!
Twenty-Fifth of December, is the world’s final day!
The turkey and the jollof rice will turn to ash and dust!
Forget your presents, people, put aside your greed and lust!
The clock is ticking, ticking fast, from now until the morn,
When the Savior's born, the final horn is also going to be born!
Repent, relax, or run and hide! Do what you will, but know,
It all ends, twenty-fifth of Dec," says Ebo Nowa, Ebo Nowa!
(Bridge)
He doesn't look like crazy, just desperately sincere
He whispers 'bout celestial alignments drawing near
He says the comet’s tail will snag upon the moon's bright face
And gravity will vanish, leaving zero time and space.
The people start to whisper, some get nervous, some scoff loud
Maybe a small percentage slips away to join his crowd.
(Instrumental Break - A frantic, high-energy Afrobeats rhythm, then suddenly quiet)
(Verse 3)
The final eve arrives, the decorations glow so bright
People check their watches through the long and solemn night
Some people feast, some pray in fear, some just shrug and wait
And Ebo Nowa sits alone, sealing up his fate.
The clock hand moves to midnight, the morning stars appear...
A rooster crows... the skies are clear... and Christmas Day is here.
(Outro)
The sun begins to rise, slow, over Accra’s gentle haze,
Ebo blinks beneath the light of the new, golden rays.
A little girl runs up to him, clutching a brand-new doll,
She asks, "Ebo, if the world didn't end, what happens to us all?"
He steps down off the oil drum, brushes dust from hi