Ghost Storey

[Verse 1]
This ink on the A3 paper from Papaye junction feels too real, Ama.
Feel the grit of the concrete dust under my nail, I trace the outline of the master bedroom.
We drew this thing last August when the rain no dey fall right,
Planning foundations on a napkin under a single flickering street light.
You built the scaffolding with your words, I dey bring the cement in my head.
Now the whole damn blueprint dey mock me from the corner of our bed.

[Chorus]
We dey build this ghost storey, Ama.
We dey build am with prayer and small yawa.
This ghost storey, Ama.
The foundation be just our own matter.

[Verse 2]
I remember you pointed to the sky, past the neighbour's rusted silver dish.
You said, "Kojo, we go get rooftop garden one day, make I just make this one wish."
But the bank manager's face was a solid wall, no windows, no door.
And I see the hairline cracks start to show in the promises on the floor.
The welder's torch flashes outside—that's the only light I see some nights.
A blueprint for a life we can't afford is a beautiful, terrible sight.

[Bridge]
If the harmattan wind come blow this paper away from here...
Na which wall we go lean on, my dear?

[Outro]
Ghost storey... our own matter...
Ghost storey...