You’re in Guyana for a week, or for a longer spell
Let me give you some background, it will serve you well.
I summarise by saying that we have a mixed up place.
Your first time come to Guyana? I’ll give you the straight case.
Most of what you hear ‘bout it, you better realize
The water this side really rough, so everything capsize.
Guyana not like Barbados, Antigua or St. Kitts,
We bigger than the British Isles, check that with the Brits.
We have a real varied cuisine, with food from far and wide,
So we have the standard rice and peas, but with fried fish inside.
Demerara, Essequibo, Berbice, and Pomeroon
Those are rivers, also counties, each one a different moon.
When it come to cuisine, friend, all kind of things to eat,
Curry yes, a lot of that, and shrimps, too, really sweet.
Fried carilla, mixed with bora, plantain chips with souse,
You’ll find that in a restaurant, or in somebody’s house.
Contradictions, I admit, we have them all the while
Some of them will make you fume, but some will make you smile.
First of all the place real big, so in the Caribbean,
If Guyanese say a place is near, is 50 miles they mean.
African people surnamed White, a white chap named Persaud
A red faced girl named Agnes Brown, it’s enough send you mad.
A Jewish chap from London, strolling Guyana breeze,
English accent, loud and thick, selling padlocks and keys.
And Chinese names I swear to you, you hurt yourself pronouncing
But the females have such lovely calves, walking and they’re bouncing.
Some of these things I’m quite aware will have you laughing, folks
But honestly this is Guyana, it’s real life here, no jokes.
We get apples from the US, and Australia, as well
Wines from all over the world; just drink it, what the hell.
Guyana got nuff greenheart wood, wallaba and mora
And plenty sugar estate friend, Mahaica and Leonora.
We make a champion pepperpot, crab back and chow mein too
And good fry bake, Christmas cake, and a winning callaloo.
You’ll learn of sydium and bora, and the phrase “bun bun”
And when we say, “story over”, that means the talking done.
Doesn’t matter where you run, New York, London, Toronto
Doesn’t matter where you wander, any place you go.
Guyana never stops calling you back, you long for tropic heat
Back to leaning mango tree, Middle Walk, Carmichael Street
To the smooth skin of the corial, the sakiwinki face
The pan bread calling you to buy in the cakeshop show case
The passing sound of donkey cart from way out there just so
That’s a sound in Guyana in every part you go
And if you wander overseas, in any place you’re choosing
If it’s not Guyana, friend, you’re definitely losing.
You are GT, and it is you, the place just fills your cup
But oh yes, I freely admit, Guyana real mix up.
Don’t fret yourself, take two XM, work in a trip to Bourda
Lean back, relax, cool breeze we say, in this mixed up Guyana.
So in the end, the Guyanese in almost every case
Wherever we go, we running back straight to this mixed up place.
